


With tongues like warm honey

by TreacleStainedScarf



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Infidelity, Love/Hate, M/M, Marriage, Post-Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-13
Updated: 2015-01-13
Packaged: 2018-03-07 09:01:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3169127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TreacleStainedScarf/pseuds/TreacleStainedScarf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being a Malfoy wasn't what it once had been and Draco Malfoy never thought that he would be able to get more out of life than he'd had, he didn't dare to hope for anything to change. He could never have imagined, even before the war, that this was going to be the life he'd get, even if he'd never given it a thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	With tongues like warm honey

 

Draco Malfoy had been utterly surprised about being invited to come back to study at Hogwarts after the war. The mere idea of Mcgonagall inviting him, by letter like a first year, had been... surprising at the very least, unbelievable seemed to be the more appropriate word, actually. After what he'd done - he hadn't counted on being welcome.  
The idea of the whole 'coming back for a redo 7th year' was one he hadn't dared to think about at all, during the Summer - not that he'd had the time. When he'd gotten that.. brilliant letter, with a personalized invite and list of required books and other essentials from Pr-Headmistress Mcgonagall, he'd felt like a first year all over again.  
His mother and himself had been forced to buy his required new books and essentials by owl-order. Even after having being cleared of all charges by Harry Potter's influence and testimony, they still didn't dare to show themselves to public eyes. The cobbled street of Diagon Alley with all it's magical shops, they had been in on destroying was still being rebuild and Draco thought it to be dangerous for them to go there.  
Not many were satisfied with him and his mother being cleared of all charges- even if it had been Harry Potter who'd caused it. Draco would rather spend his summer inside than risk getting spat on and cursed by angry hordes of wizard and witches. Bringing in a tailor from France had even been necessary for Draco to have a new set of school-robes since his old ones had become too short, showing off his thin ankles to the world.

Truthfully he'd been shocked to hear that the school was ready to take in students yet again and that there was staff enough, willing, to take care of all those students and extra lectures. It proved that the school was standing as magnificent as it had back then, the staff just as impressive as when all seemed to be at peace. He expected that Mcgonagall and the other Professors would have to deal with quite a lot of concerned parents as well as a lot of traumatized children of the war.   
But what he saw when he arrived at platform 9¾ on September 1st, at 10 o'clock in the morning, wasn't any of the sort. What he saw was people looking excitingly back and forth, obviously trying to spot Potter and his friends - the heroes of the war, The Boy Who Lived Twice. Draco didn't count on seeing him. He didn't want to see him to be quite honest. He'd seen plenty of Potter during the Summer - but then again, he owed his life to said speccy git. 

"Draco be careful this year.." He heard his mother say quietly.

He turned his head to look at her, frowning as he noticed how she was hiding beneath a white shawl, like an old lady. "Mother..." He said softly, pulling the shawl down to her shoulders. "You don't need to hide any longer." He muttered, as he looked at his own hands on her lithe shoulders. He felt his stomach drop slightly as he noticed how skinny the both of them were. His grip tightened on his mother's shoulders. "Mot-Mum..  Ple-Please take care of yourself while I'm gone." He said quietly, it was more a question than a demand.  
His mother only nodded. "Only if you promise to do the same.. Take your potions and sleep in something warm." She said with a tender smile, making Draco blush. It was like leaving for the first time all over again and Draco didn't bother to say something about her treating him like so. "Of course Mum.." He said softly, the direct opposite of what he'd done when he'd first stepped onto this familiar platform.

That day, the first time he was to ride that magnificent scarlet train, his eyes had gleamed with excitement and unshed tears, his ears had been red with warmth because of the constant stroking from his mother's little hands as she kept running them through his hair, pushing it behind them. He remembered muttering 'Mother..' in embarrassment and taking a step back, pushing out his chest proudly as he looked up at his father who caressed his hair and smiled at him. And as he'd walked away, he hadn't looked back at them, not even once. He was sure, his eyes were reflecting his thoughts, his longing of those innocent days.  
His mother noticed exactly that and smiled at him as she placed a hand on his, on her shoulder. She knew he longed for those days, days like the first time he'd boarded that magnificent scarlet train to go to Hogwarts like his father, mother, every other relative he had. She remembered him parting with her shyly, trying not to cry - because he knew she'd miss him a lot and he'd miss her just as much. He was a man now, and she knew - and soon he'd leave her behind, to live his own life. She couldn't help but be a little selfish and hope he'd miss her, feel homesick and write her long letters.

"You're a good boy, Draco." She said softly, reaching up to stroke his fine hair. She was a bit saddened by him cutting it short - but, at least it looked better on him than it did on Lucius when he was Draco's age. "You'll come home once in a while yes? Visit me and your father?" She asked, still stroking his hair. Draco cringed at the mention of his father, but nodded. "Of course I will Mum. I will write you every week." He promised, smiling sadly at her. But his mother smiled brightly back at him, and let the shawl slide off her shoulders and into her little hands, stroking the soft chiffon with the laced edges before giving it to Draco. "It won't do you much good for warmth," She said as he opened his mouth to protest. "But, let you mother be a little selfish, and let her give this to you so that you'll think of her each time you see it." She said, patting his cheek lovingly. Draco nodded softly, bringing it carefully around his neck like a cravat. "Bye Mum." He said softly and embraced his mother, who held onto him like the day she'd birthed him. She kissed his forehead, and right cheek before letting him go, standing there in her light-blue dress waving him a goodbye.

Draco looked back at her from time to time as he walked, his old Eagle owl giving him an irritated hoot every time he turned, because the trolley moved his cage when Draco stopped. "Shush Bobu. You old grumpy bird." He muttered at it. It clicked it's beak up at him in irritation and closed it's eyes. He sighed and turned to wave at his mother, letting his trunks be loaded onto the train before walking in there with Bobu. He wanted to keep a friendly face around. He didn't know, which of his friends would be returning, nor did he know how people were going to greet him.   
                                                                                                                          **********

Draco didn't walk for too long until he found an empty compartment, which he hastily took a seat in. He sighed as he took in the surroundings of the familiar train of which he'd become quite fond, and placed Bobu under the small table by the window. Bobu was already snoring away, clearly satisfied with being placed somewhere, where he could stay in peace. Draco considered closing the curtains, to get a bit of shut-eye himself - but he knew his mother was still watching him from afar. She'd always done that when he were to go away, though she thought he didn't know.  
He knew why his mother was there now, even though he was a grown man... well, of age at least. She had always worried about him, after all, he was her only child and she wanted the best for him. The day he'd gotten measured for his robes for Hogwarts and he'd met Potter - not that he knew who he was - he had been very discouraged by the fact that the other boy seemed to dislike him. Truthfully, he understood why, but at the same time, he wished that Potter had only known that Draco had no idea about how to speak to another child. He'd been surrounded by adults his entire life, forced to listen to their talks and learned from that. They had brought their children along - who had been specially picked by his father for suitable playmates. They were the same as Draco, but had always agreed with him, whatever he said was law - he was always right. Though, some were too stupid to understand just what he said. He didn't deny the fact, that he probably was as well.

As much as he hated to admit it, he'd cried when he got back home. It was more out of sudden fear of going away from his mother, and the safe walls of his home than it was 'The other boy didn't like me' - but it had added to his fears, of being disliked, harassed by other children. He wisely hadn't told his mother or his father. He'd kept his head high during the whole thing - until he reach the school and got the first letter from his mother. He'd had to excuse himself to go miss his mother in private. He liked to tell himself that he didn't cry that day, because Malfoys DID NOT cry.  
The train soon started moving - 11 o'clock precisely as always - and he looked out the window to spot his mum, and wave sheepishly at her. He hadn't done that before and she seemed shocked about the fact that he knew she was there. However, she waved back until she couldn't see him and he couldn't see her anymore - and a little further than that, just in case.  
"I never took you for a real mama's boy, Dray. Always took you for a Daddy's boy." Draco flinched, and stopped the small movement of his hand, placing it in between his closed thighs as he willed down a blush, which thankfully only reached his ears.

"Blaise. I've told you a thousand times to stop calling me that." He greeted, voice loud and formal, not hiding his irritation. "How have you been?" he asked, looking at the lad as he dropped into the seat in front of him. "Italy was wonderful, met a few birds, relaxed in the sun and drank Prosecco - how was your trial? I can see the sun hasn't ruined your colour.. Kept you in all summer did they?" Blaise asked him with a smirk. Arrogant pillock. "Seeing as I'm sitting here, it went pretty brilliant." Draco answered with a huff. "It rained a lot this summer..." He noticed Blaise frown out of the corner of his eye, as he turned his face to look if anyone had followed Blaise into their compartment. 

"If you're looking for Greg-" Blaise said, making Draco turn his head back to look at him. "Then he'll be here in a minute - he's chasing down the trolley again." Draco smiled fondly at that. Whilst Blaise hadn't changed at all - always the arrogant, handsome lad - he'd figured, that Greg had changed, just as much as he had. Watching your close friend die, smell him die would do that to anyone. Thankfully, he hadn't changed enough to turn down sweets. The thought made Draco smile for a mere moment.  
Blaise stuck his tongue out to moisten his dry lips as he looked at Draco. "He's quiet." He said, looking meaningfully at Draco. "..ain't the same person.." Blaise muttered. "He's only here on probation - one wrong move and he's in Azkaban." It almost sounded like Blaise actually gave a damn about it.

"And, Nott?" Blaise then asked, turning to Draco. "I haven't seen him." Draco said, leaning against the window. "Maybe he isn't coming back - his father was sentenced to Azkaban, for the rest of his life." He muttered, closing his eyes. He wasn't sure he would have wanted to show up either - he was doing this... for his mother he supposed, even though he didn't see what good it would bring. The Malfoy's glory was over. 'Sanctimonia Vincet Semper' was no longer prideful words. "Hm.. Too bad. I liked the lad." Blaise answered with a shrug. "… Me too." Draco answered quietly, sighing as rain started thudding against the window, cooling it.

Draco looked at Blaise, swallowing thickly. "And.. erm.. Parkinson?" He asked - though, if he was honest with himself, he wasn't worried about her whereabouts. "Nobody's seen the Parkinson's for quite some time now. Fled the country... I would too if I had tried to hand Potter over to You-Know-Who." Blaise said with a shrug, and leaned back. "Didn't think you'd care, pillow-biter." Draco blushed angrily. "Stop calling me that.." He mumbled, leaning his head against the window.  
"Stop denying that you are one." He heard Blaise snort. "Parkinson was all over you and sure - she wasn't exactly a sight for sore eyes - hell, she wasn't a sight for the blind. But a cunt is a cunt." Blaise laughed, smirking at Draco, whom huffed and turned his head away. "I've seen you wank Dray," Blaise purred, ".. your fingers are in your arse more than on your cock." He said with a wink, moving to sit by Draco's side. "Didn't seem to mind me crawling into your bed either.." He said lowly, placing a hand on Draco's thigh, giving it a squeeze. 

"Doesn't that make you a pillow-biter too?" He asked with an irritated huff. Blaise just smirked at him. "I like birds more." Draco pursed his lips and crossed his legs, trying to ignore Blaise as much as he could. "Oh come on Dray, give a man a kiss, would you?" Blaise spoke with so much confidence in his voice that Draco needed to roll his eyes at it. "Stop fucking calling me that," He snarled, turning his head. "I thought you started seeing birds again - like that horrid, freckled weasel-bint. You think she's fit don't you?" He growled at Blaise. As much as he liked attention from Blaise, he refused to be compared to What-ever-her-name-was Weasley. 

Blaise smirked. "Oh come on Dray.. you know I'd prefer you over her anytime. I prefer blondes - real blondes." He said, moving his hand a little further up with a smirk. "Besides - I'm not Potter am I? Why wou-" "Uh.. I'll just come back later then..." Draco heard a familiar voice utter, though, the tone was different than before. He hurriedly pushed Blaise away. "If you're lucky - later." He mumbled, to the scowling Blaise, ho moved to the seat across from him.  
"No, come sit down Greg." Draco said, as friendly as he could manage with the mood he was in. Greg smiled back at him and sat down next to Draco, offering him a peppermint toad - a favorite of Draco's, even if their leaping about in ones' stomach was quite distasteful. Draco shook his head. "No thank you." He said sheepishly as Greg blinked owlishly at him. "..You should eat.." Draco heard him mutter. "...'too thin.." He mumbled before eating his candy. Draco noticed that it was much less than what he'd had before.

                                                                                                                  **********

Draco noted, that most students that had returned seemed to suddenly have become aware of the fact that many Slytherin students never had participated actively in the war. A wrong image had come up, during the time the Severus was Headmaster - the Slytherins had, participated in classes actively. But with the punishments dealt - and the 'Professors' that taught the, it would have been stupid, Gryffindorish not to.  
As far as the sudents knew, Draco was the only one with a Dark Mark- and the only one to have been a Death Eater attending Hogwarts, if they didn't include their deceased potion's professor, DADA professor and former Headmaster Severus Snape.  
The only ones, that had participated actively in the war, that Draco himself knew of was Greg, Vincent and Theodore, whereas only one of them had returned. Theodore, he hadn't seen since the end of the war. He wondered if he had died too - though, he doubted it. 

Apparently, Pansy had fled the country - which was understandable. Who wanted to be known as 'The Girl Who Tried To Hand Harry Potter Over To Vo-The Dark Lord'? Draco couldn't say that he was... displeased with her disappearance. She had been awfully clingy and whilst he'd liked the attention she gave him, he had never developed any feelings for her, certainly not the ones she had for him. She had grown too fond of him, and he hadn't grown fond of anything about her, but the way she paid attention to him. Her pug-face and irritating voice when she cooed his name, was still as clear as the sound of fingernails being pulled down a blackboard in his mind. He hadn't understood why she was so fond of him, he had never as much as snogged her! He'd been busy being obsessed with Po- snogging Blaise instead.

He sat back in his seat, thinking about how their ride had been. It had been mostly quiet for once - Draco's pretended to be asleep a lot of the time to avoid Blaise and shushed Bobu, when he hooted in irritation of Greg's snoring as they neared Hogwarts. The sky was growing darker, and Draco had closed the curtains on his side and turned on the little gas-lamp on the table. He'd grown to be a little scared of the darkness during the war. Blaise seemed to notice and smirked at him from his seat. "Want to come over here? He's a heavy sleeper." Blaise said, nodding in Greg's direction. Draco shook his head - he wasn't going to give in on the first bloody night! "I-I'll go for a walk." He muttered standing up and walking out the compartment-door before Blaise had a chance to protest to his fleeing.

                                                                                                              **********

Draco sighed as he closed the door to the compartment, and looked at the window in front of him. He found himself unwilling to look beyond his own reflection, and thought of his mother as he did so. He felt bad about leaving her and his father behind- maybe he should take the train back to London?  
He had barely walked 26 steps - not that he counted - before a broad, but lightly shorter frame slammed right into him, effectively knocking him to the floor. "Bloody hell!" He heard someone say, the sound of glasses being fondled with filled the quiet hall. "Shite - 'm sorry mate, didn't see you there.." An apology, that Draco was sure to be drawn back as soon as they saw who it was. "Malfoy - you alright?" He blinked, and looked up to see the unshaven face of Harry Potter, a sheepish smile stretching his lips as he extended a hand to help him up. "Potter.." He said, greeting him as formally as he'd greeted Blaise before as he rejected the extended hand by standing up himself, dusting off his light dove gray robes. He'd ought to know it was Potter by the sound of the glasses being fondled with. Potter looked a little confused by the refused hand, but withdrew it with no sound, placing it sullenly in his trouser pockets.

"So um.." He started, letting Draco raise an eyebrow at him. "I-I uh.. didn't count on running into you on the train?" Potter said with a friendly smile - somehow, it pissed Draco off. "I could say the same about you, Boy Wonder." He said with a huff. Potter blinked at him, before smiling - hadn't he realized that Draco had insulted him? Oblivious bugger. "I probably shouldn't have you'know.. People are asking me for autographs and pictures and all that.. I had to cover myself with my invisibility-cape to get here." He mumbled, chuckling sheepishly. Draco snorted. "Smug about that aren't you?" He said, sounding as insulted as he could manage. But it wasn't easy with those, bright green eyes, looking at him from under the round glasses, that somehow managed to look attractive on Potter.

"... Look Malfoy, I just wanted to know if you really were coming back to Hogwarts with m-us this year. 'Thought you'd gone to Durmstrang." Potter muttered, sounding a little disappointed with what Draco answered him with. What had he expected? A hug? For Draco to fall to his knees and show him his thankfulness by suc-kissing his... shoes? Oh those poor excuse for shoes, Draco thought sourly as he looked down at them. Ratty old muggle trainers - one would think that Potter could afford a pair of proper dragon-hide boots. Draco pursed his lips. "Well as you see, I didn't." He said sourly, making Potter frown again. "Listen Potter-" Draco started with a sigh. "I might be thankful that you spoke for my mother and I at our trials, saved our lives - but I'm not looking to be friends with you." He said courtly, crossing his arms and looking out the window. "I'd rather have it, that we don't interact at all during our stay." He muttered. Potter looked up at him, blinking owlishly at him - like Greg had done earlier. Draco thought that there was some sort of justice to it - rejecting Potter's hand like he had done 8 years prior. It felt, easy to reject Potter's friendship. 

"But um - I really don't see any reason why you'd.. um..." Potter swallowed thickly, before sighing. "It's not like I want that either Malfoy - just wanted to see if you were okay and all.." Potter mumbled before turning to walk away. "Why wouldn't I be?" Draco asked with a huff as he heard Potter sigh. "You haven't changed, Malfoy." Potter said in a tone that sounded rather happy and Draco didn't understand why Potter'd be happy about such thing.  
Draco noted how Potter's swagger had become confident, how muscles in his back moved under the t-shirt he was wearing. Draco had always liked men with muscled backs. "You know um... You've lost a lot of weight... You should eat more." Draco heard Potter say, and he felt a blush reach his ears. "That's none of your con-" He said loudly, but Potter interrupted him with a, "Take care, Malfoy." before disappearing into the next carriage. Draco suddenly didn't feel like going for a walk anymore.

                                                                                                                **********

"Oi - Harry, where'd you go?" Ron asked from his seat in their compartment, his head in Hermione's lap as she read a thick book - looked like a muggle book, which probably was why Ron was stealing glances at the pages every now and then. Harry pointed a crooked grin their way, it was nice watching them finally getting along for once. He noticed how Crookshanks were sitting on the floor in front of the two, staring angrily up at the couple, obviously jealous that he wasn't allowed up there with them by Ron who still had some issues with the animal. "I just went for a walk." He said, walking towards his own seat next to Ginny, paying attention to his steps - he'd rather not step on Crookshanks, who was rubbing himself up against his legs hopefully, again. Ginny shoo'ed the hopeful Kneazle hybrid away with her foot, and barely gave Harry time to actually sit down, before she grabbed his arm firmly and snuggled into his side. She'd never been this clingy before.

Hermione finally looked up from her book with a frown. "Without your invisibility cape? Harry - you could have been mauled by people out there." She scolded him. "What if someone had seen you?" She asked, placing the book by her side as she looked at him, her eyes softer than her usual grimace when she lectured Harry and Ron. "Someone saw me 'Mione - I ran directly into someone." Harry said causally, making Hermione frown. "Nothing happened as you see." He said with a smirk, making Ginny giggle. He didn't know when it had started sounding shrill to him.  
"Who?" Ron asked from his place in Hermione's lap. "Draco." Harry answered carelessly, making Hermione look up through concerned eyes. "The ferret-face? Did he even apologize to you?" Ron asked with a snort. Harry shook his head. "I ran into him - knocked him over." Ginny huffed from next to him. "He was probably in the way. He should have apologized to you - after all you've done for the git." Ron mumbled, ignoring the glare Hermione was sending him by closing his eyes. "How is he?" She asked, her voice not as strong as it had been during his scolding. "As snarky as ever." Harry said with a snort. "He isn't ashen anymore... But too thin. He's lost weight." He frowned, trying to sound as indifferent as he could.

Hermione frowned as Ginny snorted. "Does that mean he's more pointy than before? Then he ought to have apologized to you - it must have hurt to run into him. Did he stab you with his elbows?" She asked, laughing to herself. Ron let out a small snort, but got quiet awfully fast as Hermione glared down at him again. "Don't say that." Harry muttered, bringing Ginny out of her laughter. Harry wondered when he'd started hating the sound of her laughter. "He's a victim too, Ginny." He muttered, leaning his head back against his seat. "I guess he is.." Ron muttered, he didn't find that funny either - even if Malfoy was a right foul git. 

Harry knew that Draco didn't want pity, neither did he seem to want Harry's help. He was thankful at the very least, which made Harry happy - but it saddened him, because Draco seemed to rather have been in Azkaban than to have received anything from Harry. His mother, had been very thankful - he remembered sitting next to her during her son's trial, crying silently but smiling brightly at Draco each time he looked her way. He'd noted that Draco looked tired, angry when Harry had testified. He'd been stopped by Mrs. Malfoy afterwards, who'd thanked him wholeheartedly for saving her and her son, whilst Draco had stood in the background, not looking at Harry at all. Harry knew, that Malfoy had trouble receiving help from anyone - and when it came to him, he only imagined that it was 100 times harder for Draco. Mrs. Malfoy, had shown pure happiness, thankfulness after the trial, even sent him a birthday present - which probably was supposed to look like it was from Draco and his father as well, but Harry doubted that it had been.

"He obviously isn't affected enough to stay away. He hasn't suffered as much as the rest of us." Ginny muttered sourly and Harry felt angry with her for saying so. Her anger towards the Malfoy's were understandable to some degree. When one thought of what Lucius Malfoy had done, it seemed that she had a right to say this about Draco - but Draco had never interacted much with Ginny at all. Harry didn't know if she realized that he owed his life to Draco and even if he hadn't, it was awful of her to wish that about someone. Harry longed for the time she'd been gentle - but he wondered if she ever had been gentle or if it was something he told himself. 

                                                                                                              **********

When they finally reached Hogwarts, Draco noticed that there were as many carriages as per usual. The thought, disturbed him a bit - after all, this meant that there were neither more or less students than the years before. He was aware than many had died in the war, and that many hadn't dared to come back. He found himself, holding onto his mother's shawl during the small ride from Hogsmeade station in the carriage pulled by Thestrals that he finally could see. While their beauty was unique, Draco found them a little frightening. Not in their looks, maybe it was more the fact that he only could see them because he'd seen someone die. Most students could probably see them now, and whilst some looked fascinated by the thestrals, most didn't look at them at all. Greg seemed to be able to see them too - but he couldn't tell if Blaise could at all. Blaise had always been good at keeping his cool - which probably was the best he could do at the moment... the best Draco could do as well. He understood why, after all they didn't know how they would be greeted as soon as they stepped away from the privacy of their own little carriage, and into the Great hall with the other students.

But he, and the other Slytherins that had dared to return, hadn't been greeted with spite and curses as he'd expected. Instead, he noticed how people nodded in greeting, a sort of familiarity as they all gathered for their 8th year, like some sort of war-veterans. Draco thought they were too young to be called that, but that really was what they were. Children born in a war, they had finished for their parents as they grew. They had been children at the time, they still were but they were hardened by the war and returned to the school, with physical and mental scars and yet, no one looked wrongly at Draco even if would have been easy to do. The only ones who did, was the children, that hadn't been at war with the others. They didn't know.

Draco almost felt like he'd been at the right side of the war all the time, but knew he hadn't. He knew he owed it all to Potter, who had spoken for him and his mother at their trial, explaining how the Malfoys had saved his life. He hadn't come for his fathers trial - there hadn't been any, but Potter probably wouldn't have showed up even if there had. His father would have been sentenced to receiving a kiss - if the new Minister, Kingsley Shacklebolt hadn't dismissed all use of those, horrible creatures. After being so close to the Dementors for quite some time, Draco had learned why Potter had feared them. Draco and his mother had braced themselves, having expected Lucius to go to Azkaban for the remains of his life, but the Ministry had found him too ill. He'd been placed him in the same ward as Longbottom's parents at St. Mungo's.

He figured that had been Granger or Potter's influence. Maybe not Potter, when he really thought about it - he couldn't think of a person who despised his father more than Potter. Granger, had always looked out for the weak - houseelfs, werewolves, Hufflepuffs... it just so happened, that Draco and his family suddenly had fit in under that category after the war. He figured, she'd felt bad for them and had spoken to the Minister about her opinions. She was, very influential - like Potter. He heard Potter speak of the torture Draco had been forced to see and do, and suffer under more often than not. It was like Potter had been there all along or, in his head... He was sure that Potter would have insisted on his father being tossed into a cell in Azkaban, rather sooner than later. But Granger, had probably been the one to convince Potter, that his father was sick.

                                                                                                               **********

During the summer, his mother and himself had visited his father on the Janus Thickey, more often than not. His mother visited his father quite often, probably every day now that he was gone. Sometimes his father remembered her and Draco well, sometimes he just forgot they'd been there at all and when they'd arrived. Draco had often tried going to the bathroom and when he came back, his father had forgotten he'd been there at all.  
Mostly, Lucius wasn't able to tell days or nights apart, sometimes he was 33 and Draco was barely seven in his head. Sometimes he hadn't become a father yet, and if Draco came alone, Lucius would often mistake him for Narcissa, and ask him why 'she' had cut 'her' hair so short. Draco never knew what to say, so he just smiled and took his father's hand, let him pretend that he wasn't doomed to stay in that awful mint-green room for the rest of his life. Sometimes Lucius would remember everything and Draco didn't know which days he liked the most. He didn't know whether to be thankful about his father being able to talk - he knew that the Longbottoms couldn't speak to their son, and with some of the things his father sometimes said, he thought he might have been more thankful if that had been the case. But sometimes, when his father remembered him and could talk with him normally, even if only for just a few minutes, he knew that he had been lucky. The healers said it was insanity, caused by the many Cruciatus curses he'd been victim to. His father was barely 45 and Draco just 18, and there he was not knowing whether or not he should wish for his father to pass or when he would. 

 

What Draco hated the most about his father's illness, was sitting outside the room, when his father didn't remember him when he came with his mother and panicked. It wasn't humiliating per say, it was unpleasant, a feeling of dread and shame that settled inside him. It was hard to describe without it sounding.. wrong. What was one supposed to feel, when one of the people one loved the most, no longer knew who you were? He sat on that bench outside the Janus Thickey ward so often, that the nurses and healers knew him by name and would greet him or ask if he needed something. But some days, they knew better than to disturb him.  
It was one of those days, where Longbottom had found him and sat down silently next to him as Draco sobbed silently into his hands, and placed a hand on his back. That only made Draco feel worse - Neville Longbottom, the chap he'd harassed and humiliated at school was sitting there, comforting him silently while he sobbed, as if he was a mere stranger in distress.  
But he'd never said a thing and neither had Longbottom - not even when he left himself or when his mother came to retrieve him. He'd heard her greet Longbottom and Longbottom greet her, but never did he say a thing to Draco.

Over the summer, Draco had tried not to think much about his father's condition and keep his mind pleasantly empty. He started taking joy in small things again. Such as riding a broomstick, sleeping late, playing the piano, going for long walks… Bloody listening to the rain and thunder like some sap. He had even taken up trying to brew his own tea blends and would spend hours in their yard in the gazebo, reading and observing the peacocks. He hadn't gotten to spend time outside or fly a lot seeing as it had rained a lot during the summer. He had played Seeker games with himself, chasing a snitch the few times it didn't rain outside. But he missed having an opponent, he missed playing Quidditch. He hadn't been able to in his 6th year, for obvious reasons.  
He longed for a proper match, with Potter preferably. Not with that little flat chested, oddly shaped little Weasel-slag whom he despised because she thought she was better than him, when really she was a half-arsed seeker. She pissed him off to no end and he'd like to wipe that stupid smirk off of her face, preferably with the grass on the Quidditch-pit.  
Winning against her, had been like beating Chang - not a very good seeker either, too easy to see through - not a brilliant win. Especially for a Slytherin. As good as a win felt, it never felt very good when one had a match with half-arsed seekers who lacked talent. It was about as satisfying as seeing a Hufflepuff soiling themselves.  
But, beating Potter had to be like... an earth-shattering orgasm. Draco had stopped thinking about Quiddtch so much after he'd started finding himself getting aroused whilst thinking about having an earth-shattering orgasm with Potter, celebrating with him in the showers. That was just plain wrong, even thinking about having Potter shag him in the showers. Though, admittedly, he had spent some of the celebration parties with Blaise in the showers - and had, once or twice thought about Potter - but only because his face annoyed him.     
                                                                                                                          
                                                                                                                      **********

Harry Potter was a patient man, a nice chap who did his best for the people he loved. And this was why he couldn't touch Ginny as she placed his hand in her lap during the carriage ride to Hogwarts. She may have been his girlfriend, but she was also his best friend's sister and he couldn't grope Ron's sister right in front of him! So he'd turned his head to her with an apologetic smile and mouthed 'Not now'. She'd wrinkled her nose in irritation and turned away with an angry huff as answer. He'd come to hate that about her. She was so angry with him, for not wanting to have sex with her, touch her or kiss her all the time. It wasn't that he disliked sex, or that he wasn't confident about his skills or lack thereoff, Ginny seemed pleased enough, but he... wasn't pleased. It just wasn't as good as he'd thought it to be.  
When he'd heard about it, it had sounded absolutely bloody brilliant. Ron had gleefully told him about how it was with a grin big enough to split his face in two, when he was with Lavender - it had been very disturbing for him to imagine and later hear her moaning 'Oh Won Won'. The mere thought of it could will down even the hardest of erections in a matter of seconds. But even if that was - it had sounded bloody brilliant.

Ginny, had been with a few before him, not that that bothered him at all. Her first had been the lad from Ravenclaw she dated back in Harry's 5th year, by then she thought Harry had been with Cho - he hadn't. She'd ended up being his first, and him her third. By that time, Hermione who'd been with Viktor Krum, had given him 'the sex talk' with blushing cheeks as she used examples from her own sex-life, which had been just as disturbing and very unnecessary and Harry would never know just why Hermione had felt that, that particular 'lecture' had been her responsibility.  
Harry was a strapping, healthy lad who woke up with a throbbing erection every single morning and had, ever since he'd discovered the wonders of masturbation, wanked at least 5 time a week with literal pleasure. Hell, he had a stash of jazz mags that could rival Seamus's - and he was the bloke whom he ordered them through.  
The lust was there, no doubt - but when it came to it, it just wasn't that good. The only time he remembered sex being better than wanking with lube, was when he'd taken Ginny from behind - she hadn't liked that very much and they hadn't done it again, much to Harry's disappointment. He supposed that what Ron and Hermione had told him about, had been severely overrated. That was the only explanation he had. 

He sighed as he looked over at Ron and Hermione as they sat there, holding hands and smiling at each other and whispered. Harry looked at Ginny and couldn't remember the last time they'd actually talked about something, or the last time he'd enjoyed holding her hand or kissing her gently. She wasn't the same person she'd been before - and Harry wondered if what he thought was unfair, they had just been at war after all and he did love her.  
But she was just so clingy, wanting for him to be with her at all times - and Harry just wasn't that guy. He had always valued his privacy, but hadn't had much privacy to start with, and now he would have close to none. Ginny, his friends and family had all started treating him differently - even Ron and Hermione, his best friends would sometimes look at him or speak to him differently than they had done before. And then there was good old Draco Malfoy, who still disliked him and weren't afraid of talking back to him, even after all he'd done for him. It sort of felt good.  
                                                                                                                            **********  
"Oi! Harry - good to see you mate!"  
"Harry! How've you been?"  
"Good summer Harry?"  
"Merlin, it's Harry Potter!"  
"Thank you Harry Potter! Thank you!"  
"Harry - over here!"  
"Harry d'you remember me?"  
"Have you noticed how handsome Harry is?"  
"Harry!"  
"Harry!"  
"Oi! Harry!"  
"Harry!"

Harry had barely walked through the door to the Great Hall before growing tired of his own name. He'd counted on this behavior from the new students - not from all of them, not from the ones who'd gone to school with Harry from the start and knew that he hadn't done this alone, and that he wasn't all that special.  
"Oi, bloody leave him alone would you." Ron snarled at the lot of them, managing to make a few people back off. Normally, he'd just ignored people and told Ron to just let them. But for once it was sort of nice having Ron as a guard-dog, the thought made Harry chuckle, thinking about Ron's patronus - a terrier, a dog that wasn't all bark. "Ronald.." Hermione scolded halfheartedly. "Hermione, it's alright." Harry had muttered, keeping his head down as they seated themselves by the end of the Gryffindor table, surrounded by their old friends who just nodded in a friendly way and kept talking to one another. Harry was glad that not all of them had changed - he noticed how Hermione had placed herself and Ron strategically in between Neville and Dean, to avoid sitting near Parvati, who was looking at her with a sour expression. At least Ginny kept girls from hitting on him - no one dared. Her bat-bogey hexes were famous by now, after what she'd done to Malfoy... Malf-no Draco. Malfoy, was Draco's father to Harry. He was Draco now.

As he remembered the blonde lad, he started looking around as discreetly as he could until he spotted Draco sitting down with the few friends he had that had returned after the war - which didn't seem to be many and though they were talking to Draco, Draco didn't seem very willing to answer to anyone but Goyle - who seemed to be just as quiet. Harry'd heard about Goyle's probation - neither of them seemed willing to say something wrong that could land them in trouble. It made Harry feel terrible really - it somehow seemed unfair. They were victims too. Harry had apparently been looking a bit too long with pity in his eyes, because Hermione and Ron turned to see what Harry was staring at. ".. Ferret-face really has lost quite a lot of weight, hasn't he? At least he isn't gray anymore.." Ron uttered softly, his voice completely free of spite. Hermione pinched his thigh. "Don't call him that Ron." She muttered, before turning back.  
                                                                                                                                   **********

"Dray - Potter's been staring at you since we entered the Great Hall.." Blaise mumbled as they started clapping for one of the 1st years that had been sorted into Ravenclaw. They were at the 9th kid and none of them had gone to Slytherin. Draco was a little worried that Slytherin had gotten itself such a bad rumor that no one would clap - which he thought was completely unfair. He hadn't trampled 1st years down to get away from the battle the year before - that prick Smith from Hufflepuff had. "I told you to stop calling me that." Draco muttered, ignoring the comment about Potter. He knew he'd been staring at him, he always did.  
"Grey, Rose." Professor, and current deputy Headmaster, Flitwick called the name of a confident-looking, blonde girl who strode to the stool in front of the head table and sat down. The hat was on her head for a short while before shouting 'Slytherin'. People were quiet as she got up with a smile and walked towards the Slytherin table. The Slytherins clapped - Draco made sure to do it extra loud to spite the rest of the houses. Self-righteous bastards. Then, a clap - strong, loud - was heard from another table. The girl stopped and looked around and Draco scowled as he saw who it was. Potter - of course, why had he bothered to look?  
Seeing Potter clap - of course made Granger do so as well, and as soon as the whole Gryffindor table was clapping - except for the two Weasels, until the male of them received an angry glare from his girlfriend which of course made him clap - the rest of the houses joined in. Draco stopped clapping, because it pissed him off how Potter would make a show out of everything and how the other houses had no spine to stand up for themselves, following Potter - The Golden Gryffindork Wonder That Lived Twice To Irritate, a title he'd come up with after 2 hours of being angry with the sod on the ride to Hogwarts - like lost little puppies.  
   
During the meal, Draco hardly ate anything, because of quite a few reasons.  
1: Potter was staring at him.  
2: Blaise was fondling his thigh.  
3: The rest of the table was staring at him.  
4: Potter was staring intensely at him.  
5: The smell of warm meat, was overpowering.  
6: Potter's friends were staring at him, knowingly.  
7: Potter breathed so loudly Draco swore he could hear him.  
   
These 7 reasons, Draco found to be quite a good reason not to eat and to count his peas before he ate them. He didn't have a reason to count them, he just wanted to, because it was distracting. A portion of 374 peas on his plate, surely wouldn't stain his mother's shawl if he didn't butter them. He liked buttered peas, he had since he was a child. But he couldn't eat anything that would stain his mother's shawl, not while he wore it. Besides that, he wasn't able to eat meat a much for time being, as much as he'd liked to. The smell of burning bodies... wasn't something he'd forget anytime soon, and even if the smell of kidney pie and newly roast chicken was very delicious - mouth-watering even, he was unable to forget the smell of rotten flesh and comrades burning in an ocean of flames. He couldn't stop looking longingly at the Cottage pie though - he absolutely loved the schools cottage-pie. Greg noticed and took a hold of the warm dish, moving it towards Draco with a light smile. Draco shook his head. "I can't." He grumbled, letting Greg move the dish away from him, nodding in understanding.

Draco finished his meal with the others, and when the desserts showed themselves on the golden plates, he had no appetite left in him, instead, he emptied goblet after goblet of pumpkin juice, to make himself full. Screw if he had to piss all night - he'd still be full, and his stomach wouldn't talk whilst Blaise had him during the night. He knew he would, because he still hadn't let go of Draco's thigh and was rubbing it meaningfully, smirking at Draco every now and then.  
Draco wanted to go to bed, let Blaise have him and when he'd gone to sleep, he'd slip out of bed and sit by his bureau and smoke a cigarette, instead of chewing on his quill, whilst writing his mother and hope she wouldn't smell it on his letter. He'd place the shawl under his mattress, so that it wouldn't wrinkle or stain - but he'd tell her he was wearing it.

                                                                                                                        **********

As the feast finally had come to an end, Potter stood up and walked to the Main Table, standing in front of it like Flitwick had done earlier that evening - he looked like he was about to piss himself. Draco didn't feel bad for him - surely if he could defeat Dark Lords, he could give a speech.  
"Students of Hogw.. Um...Friends," Potter started speaking, loudly, but nervously. "I want to thank you, for your assistance and support in rebuilding Hogwarts to ensure that a new generations of bright, brave, kind and cunning little witches and wizards can go through the first year of what's probably going to be the best time of their lives." Draco snorted inwardly - There was no way, Potter had come up with that by himself.  
"I remember coming to Hogwarts myself, I met my best friends here, have been taught things I thought I'd never do by capable Professors - I've played Quidditch here, and had a brilliant team and opponents who showed me a good match each time we've played." He said, smiling out at the crowd. Draco was oddly annoyed by that. "I've gained a lot of experiences, and a lot of friends. Not only my house-mates, whom has become a family in time, but also from other houses. Unity in between the houses, within the walls of our school, my home, your home can not be encouraged enough. Second chances are important. Don't judge each other, just because of the house you're in - you could miss out on some really interesting people, and good friendships." He cleared his throat loudly.  
"My time here, is time I didn't think I had or would experience. I knew nothing of this world until I was brought straight into it here." He cleared his throat loudly with that. "All I want to say, is thank you, to those who stayed behind and helped us all defend Hogwarts, England, the Entire Wizarding World." Potter smiled sheepishly out at the crowd before stalking back to his seat, his ears, as Gryffindor red as they could be as the students clapped, and cheered happily.

                                                                                                                        **********

As Harry sat down by the Gryffindor table again, he'd bowed his head in embarrassment, cheeks as scarlet as his house colors as several people around him spoke happily about him yet again - how handsome he was, how powerful his voice had been or how amazing his speech were. "Oi - you lot! Stop bothering him." Ron spoke in a loud, irritated voice as he glared at them all. They soon quieted down, thankfully. "Thanks mate." Harry said with a sheepish smile. Hermione smiled at him. "Well, I'm guessing the key-words I gave you worked alright?" She said, laughing softly to herself as she emptied her goblet. "Too well.." Harry muttered. "I don't think I'll ever get used to hold speeches all the time..." He grumbled, pushing a few leftover buttered peas around the gravy on his plate. "You will eventually Harry, besides - you did come up with some of those things by yourself. And spoke them with such passion." Ron smiled at him and placed his elbows on the table, leaning in over it. "Exactly mate - 'Mione never wrote anything about us, or you know - the family, friend part." He said with a big grin, making Harry want to laugh. Hermione just nodded along with what Ron said and smiled. But he just smiled back as the two of them turned to face the main-table as Mcgonagall stood up.

He looked to his side to see a pouting Ginny. "I didn't hear you mention me up there." She said in an insulted voice. Harry flushed slightly. "Well I... I thought it would be a little um.." He wanted to say embarrassing so very bad - but he knew he couldn't. Ginny would take that very personally and think he was ashamed of her and he wasn't. "..A little inappropriate to say in front of them all.." He finished with an apologetic smile. Ginny just huffed. "Are you ashamed of me?" She asked angrily as she crossed her arms and turned her back on him. He sighed. "Of course I'm not Gin.. You know I'm not.." He whispered. Harry sometimes wished that Ginny would understand that he was a private person, that he got embarrassed easily. He could just imagine all of the whistles or catcalls he'd get for mentioning that he'd found a.. girlfriend here.  
He reached over and grabbed her hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. "I'm not ashamed of you, Ginny, I love you.." He said with a soft smile. She smiled softly to herself, seemingly she was satisfied with his answer. Harry was pleased enough to turn his head away from her to pay attention the the Headmistress.

                                                                                                                  **********

"With that said by Mr. Potter - I think we all should have 2 minutes of silence, to show our deceased comrades, sisters, brothers or parents respect and thankfulness for the victory we all fought for, within the walls of our precious school." Mcgonagall spoke loudly but softly, before bowing her head, the entire hall doing the same as they all stilled. Draco thought he heard someone whimper, or weep even - but he felt several glares on his person as he himself bowed his head in respect. He knew people, would react badly to him being there - they probably wouldn't dare to do so, in front of the staff. He let himself grab onto Greg's arm in a comforting manner, smiling at him before looking down as the silence turned into mutterings. 2 minutes didn't seem long enough for Draco.  
Mcgonagall looked over the hall, hoping she hadn't rid the students of their joy of coming back. She cleared her throat loudly before speaking. "The feast has been eaten, and with that it's time to join your comrades and go back to your Common rooms. First years are to follow the Prefects, and listen to their instructions." Mcgonagall said, clearing her throat. "I ask of the students that are redoing their 7th year, to stay behind. You will now be addressed as 8th years to avoid confusion. Thank you students - and goodnight." She greeted, sitting down slowly as the head of houses walked out after the students.  
   
As the 8th years assembled around her, Mcgonagall stood up before them all, smiling kindly at them, nodding in greeting. "Welcome back." She said, letting them all - or at least the rest of them - fall silent at the sound of her voice. "As you may know, this was an unexpected turn of events and I'm very sorry to tell you that there simply isn't room for you lot in your usual dorms." She raised her hand to silence them as the confused mutterings and complaints sounded. "The school has previously never been able to take in more students than the 1st years to the 7th year students, and whilst you still are official Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs and Slytherins, you will no longer stay in your House dorms any longer." She cleared her throat before going on. "We have, during the rebuild, renovated and expanded an old otherwise unused South-West turned corridor on the ground-floor. This means, that one side has a brilliant view of the Black Lake, whilst the other has a view of the Forbidden Forest." She said, trying to let the students focus on the positive.

"The sun sets over the Black Lake, and that is quite the view, the other side by the forest has sunlight from morning till night." She smiled to herself as she heard the students, finally starting to sound a little bit excited by their new dorm. The Ravenclaws seemed keen on getting the Lake-view, because so many brilliant thoughts as well as romance had bloomed throughout history, by looking at the last rays of sunlight dance on the surface on the water. The Hufflepuffs, seemed to want the forest-view, since it would shelter them from the elements like their dorm in the basement, but also because of the want to hear bird-song in the mornings, like they hadn't been able to before. The Slytherin's wanted to be near the Ravenclaws whilst the Gryffindors wanted to be near the Hufflepuffs. Mcgonagall remembered her own Gryffindor-student days well, and remembered vaguely that she'd enjoyed sharing classes with the Hufflepuffs more than any other house.

"Boys and girls will yet again be separated, and I will remind you that boys in the girl's rooms is inappropriate and therefore forbidden. But seeing as you, more or less are adults, I will not separate the girl's and boy's into dorms but rooms." Draco figured, that she was doing it to prevent fighting as much as she could manage. "Each room will contain 4 beds, as well as 4 bureaus and 2 wardrobes, so you will have to share those equally." She looked pointedly at the girls. "There are, with each room a bathroom with all the essentials, with a shower and a bath. This you will also have to share - and I don't want to hear any complaints from either of you." She said, still looking at the girls. "Also," She said, looking at them all again. "I must remind you all, that we're also moving you away from the other students, for your own safety's sake. Mainly a few of you, who were particularly active in the war needs to be sheltered away from younger students. It is therefore forbidden for you to let in students from other years and neither will they be able to do so. If you are to visit your old common-rooms, this will be at own risk." She said, looking at Harry out of the corner of her eye.

"I know that each of you, have a different way of entering your dorms. All I ask of you, is a knock and a password that changes every fortnight. This fortnight's password is Asphodel. Understood?" She tilted her head as if to ask if they'd all understood. There was a chorus of confirming murmurs. "Good. As I mentioned before there are 4 beds in each room. You will only get to choose 1 partner, whom you wish to room with." She transfigured a piece of parchment and a quill to each student. "Please write the person's name as well as your own and hand them to me afterwards." She stood still, wringing her hands behind her back as she listened to the scribbles, only bringing them forward as she started receiving the little notes, which she skimmed through. "Thank you - I will try to pair you up to the best of my abilities. I should inform you, that I am going to promote House unity between you all and will place you with students from other houses as well." She said, ignoring the bitter mutters. "Now, follow me and please take notice of where we go."

                                                                                                                      **********

As Harry followed Mcgonagall to their new dorm, he thought about how he probably should be disappointed in the fact that students from other years weren't allowed in the dorm, but he wasn't. He saw it as a place, where Ginny couldn't follow him to yell because she was angry with him. He knew that was a horrible thought - he did love her. He wasn't sure just how many times he'd told himself that, that day.

He looked up at Mcgonagall, knowing just how tired she was. He appreciated the effort she'd put into getting them all back to Hogwarts, making room for them to stay in, convincing Professors to take extra hours to teach them. He sighed to himself, as he looked over the crowd. It was somewhat comforting to see most of his comrades again. "You wrote my name right?" He asked Ron who was walking next to him, Hermione holding his hand with a soft blush coloring her cheeks as she looked around to take notice of where they were. "Of course I did mate." Ron said with a grin. "And you wrote me?" He asked, Harry nodding in response. "It wouldn't be the same without you." He said with a smile as they heard a small chuckle from Hermione.  
"Who did you write 'Mione?" Ron asked, pulling his girlfriend closer by her hand. "I didn't write anybody." Hermione answered with a shrug. "I saw you writing something." Harry then pointed out. "I wrote 'Anybody but Parvati Patil'." She said pursing her lips slightly. She could deny it all she wanted, since it would be rude to speak badly about Parvati now - but Hermione had disliked her for many years, mainly because of her everlasting gossiping with Lavender Brown - whom Parvati still was mourning. She seemed to put some of her blame on Hermione, for 'robbing' her of one of her last joys - Ron. Harry and Ron both laughed at her answer. "You'd probably fit in better with some of the Ravenclaws, don't you think?" Ron asked, with an innocent smile. Hermione shrugged. "I was almost sorted into Ravenclaw... I just hope that I won't have to listen to any chatter for once.." She muttered. Harry knew she listened in on it even if she denied it. 

Soon they reached a large framed mirror, that reminded Harry of the Mirror of Erised. But he figured that it wasn't - why would they display a treasure, that had made men waste away in front of it, enchanted by what they saw? It would be dangerous - stupid even. So when Headmistress Mcgonagall walked up to the mirror, knocked on the glass once and said 'Asphodel' in a clear voice, he wondered if a mirror really was an appropriate entrance. After all, every other House had a somewhat hidden entrance, camouflaged to those who did not know about it. In fact - he was sure he'd never have known where the entrance to the Slytherin dorms were, if it hadn't been for an illegal potion and Draco Malfoy.  
He skimmed the group to catch a glimpse of the blonde lad, and saw him standing near a very silent Goyle, who seemed engrossed with his shoes and Blaise Zabini, looking at a few Ravenclaws with an appreciating look in his eyes. He looked back at his friends before anyone could catch him staring - he'd rather not be accused of being obsessed with Draco Malfoy again.

"This is where I leave you all," Mcgonagall said loudly. "I expect of you lot, to act your age. No fights, and I will not hear any complains of your rooming." She said, looking at the group before her with pursed lips. "I shall remind you, that you are still a part of your houses, you wear the robes and gain and lose points, detentions, punishments and rewards for your actions. That includes promoting House Unity between you all. And whilst a little competitive spirit is healthy, I will not tolerate anything that goes beyond that. Don't act like youngsters and 'prank' each other - not even during the Quidditch matches, which you still are allowed to play if the team wants you." She said, taking a deep breath before transfiguring pieces of parchment like before, and sending them out to the students. "I must tell you, that seeing as you have to spend time here for an extra year and the issue with you all being from different houses, that I have no teacher to keep an eye on you like in the regular dorms. Neither will there be any mentions of Head boy or girl, I expect you all to act your age as earlier mentioned. If you are in dire need of help, you will go to the staff-room or your old Head of House's living quarters. You are to be responsible for your behavior. All of you." She said, looking at them all before clearing her throat. "You may open those." She said, looking at the little pieces of parchment.

Each of them held the receivers name, and a number. "That, is the number of your room, once you've all settled in, your names will show on a golden plate next to the door. As per usual your luggage has already been placed in in your assigned rooms. With this I bid you a goodnight - and for Morgana's sake please try to remember the password." She said, looking them all over again. "Goodnight, I will be looking forward to seeing most of you tomorrow." She said with a small nod, before walking away, letting the eager students pass through the entrance the The Eight Year's Common-room.  
                                                                                                                                **********

As they all walked into their new common room, Draco felt the mood of the room grow to a childish excitement of seeing something new in such a familiar place, that were to house them all for the remains of their education at Hogwarts. Draco was sure he'd miss it all a lot, even if bad memories had sown their seeds in his heart. He looked around the large oval room, with a strange feeling of admiration blooming in his chest. The walls were the lightest of dusty blue, and the ceiling was of white marble with patterns of gold along the edges as if it grew there like ivy. The fireplace was large and had the same marble and gold as the ceiling framing it, atop of that a portrait was placed showing a meadow, filled with summer flowers and a single large tree. The leaves moved, and Draco swore he spotted a few animals rustling about even in the dark of night. He supposed that when daytime would break, it would show on the portrait as well, though that might not have been necessary. In the opposite end of the entrance were large clear lancet windows, covering up the entire wall. Draco didn't know if he'd ever get used to having windows in his dorm, that didn't view the depths of the black lake. But beautiful it was.

In front of the fireplace stood 3 dark-brown leather Chesterfield couches, two of them on each side facing each other and the third facing the fireplace, two armchairs beside it - quite strategically placed for gatherings and cosy afternoons spent by the fire. There was one large table in the empty space in front of the couches, made of dark, polished rosewood. By one of the walls, there were about 7 bookshelves made of the same, polished rosewood by the look of it, stuffed to the brim with books for sheer entertaining. Draco was sure that more than a few muggle-books were standing alongside the wizarding ones, and though he'd most likely say something awful about them to Blaise later on, he was very interested in reading them - just for the sake of doing it. About 2 meters away from the shelves stood a long table, for gatherings between a group of students, studying, wizarding chess, maybe even exploding snap. In the other end of the room, near the windows to be exact, stood an old grand piano and a white pillowed bench. Draco ached to run his fingers over the keys, like he'd done to his own at home all summer.

He noticed how Mcgonagall had tried to place every House-color in a place where they would fit in - even if only in subtle nuances, such as the light blue walls with gold trimmings, or the pale, almost white but still yellow drapes hanging on silver curtain rods. They looked more old and unwashed, stained with tea or coffee rather than yellow. He found the subtle almost gray but still black in the stained glass at the very top of the windows. He looked around for the bronze and scarlet of Ravenclaw and Gryffindor and found the bronze as frames around woodland portraits - a particular one with a mighty stag on it caught his eyes, that was no doubt to Potter's honor alone. The scarlet proved to be more difficult to spot, until he spotted the strong color on the floor in form of a soft carpet under the Chesterfield couches by the fire. He was surprised how well the contrast between he light walls and the dark carpet worked wonders for one another. When he finally decided to search for the bottle green of Slytherin he found it in the form of the fabric on the stuffed chairs that was pushed as near to the table as they would go, decorating the room in the most subtle way and he suddenly felt sad for the color. Green with envy it was, looking at the other colors come to their rights. He sighed softly, he'd ought to have known.

"So what do you think?" He felt the warmth of Blaise's whisper before he heard it. "It's.. rather posh for a common room I suppose..." Draco answered, ignoring Blaise's hands on his thin shoulders, running down his arms. "All for Potter." He muttered, making Blaise laugh softly into his ear. "What are your thoughts?" Draco asked, an eyebrow raised as he turned his head to observe Blaise, who didn't answer - he seemed to look around with appreciative looks. Draco knew he wasn't looking at the room.  
"So.. Who did you write?" He asked, placing a kiss behind Draco's ear, knowing just how it would make him shudder. "..Greg.." Draco lied, looking around to make sure no one saw them - mainly Potter, who always seemed to stare at him like he was up to something. He had asked for Blaise, he was certain that they were in the same room. "Too bad.. I wrote you." Blaise whispered teasingly - Draco could feel the arrogant bastard's smirk against his hair, Blaise saw right through his lie. "It's easier for me to sneak into your bed, when we share a dorm. And you like that don't you, pillow-biter?" Draco swallowed thickly. Merlin he disliked Blaise sometimes.  
"I think I'll find my assigned dorm. If you are lucky," He started with a smirk, "- then you may find yourself sharing a bed with me for the night." He let his smirk grow a little wider with the expression on Blaise's face as he turned, and walked away from the buzzing sound from the excited voices as they all admired their new common-room.

                                                                                                                    **********

Draco walked through the door to the left, where he started his search for room number 12. Draco was displeased with getting a room with an even number, he was quite fond of odd numbers for some reason, he always had been, except for the number 13. It was an always unlucky number, he didn't know why really. It was just something his mother always had said, and that had grown on him with time - like drinking hot chocolate with Kahlua in it when he had the flu to sleep better.  
He sighed as he finally found room 12, the numbers written clear as day on the door on a golden ornament in black writing on the wooden, black-painted door. It looked old, antique if that was possible. Draco hoped the room would be as beautiful as the door. As he reached for the doorknob, he saw that it was one of those beautiful diamond doorknobs they had at the manor. Only, these were bottle-green, Slytherin green and quite marvelous to look at. He wondered if this indicated that it was a Slytherin-dorm, but noted that every doorknob was the same as he turned to investigate. He was rather pleased with that.

What he saw when he opened the doors, were better than he'd hoped for - seeing as it was a dorm-room at a boarding school. The floor was made of dark dusty wood, probably ebony or something akin to the sort. They'd had that in the Slytherin dorms as well, but since this was dusty, it looked older - lighter. It was quite rustic to look at, and matched the white chalk wall, and the single stone wall in gray shades by the windows. This probably made the room look colder during the day, but the gas-driven chandelier gave off a warm glow, warming the entire room up like they had a fireplace - it certainly was warm and toasty in there, and it pleased Draco, since he always was cold at night. By himself at least. The chandelier wasn't all that impressive, especially not compared to the ones he had at home. No this, large source of light was fairly simple, made of what looked like white-gold and had 6 light bulbs, hidden away by 6 little smoked glass-shades, and the very top was decorated with simple little rows of crystals - which Draco was almost certain, was made of glass. 

He looked at the floor once more, and saw a large rectangle oriental rug in beautiful shades and nuances of dark green, dark blue, black gray and white. It looked old against the somewhat dusty floor and Draco felt a need to walk around it and not walk on it with his shoes on, but he imagined that when he got up at night to go to the bathroom or to sneak out for Blaise or the other way around - the rug would absorb the sound of his steps.    
In the room there was 4 bureaus, made of some sort of dark brown wood that Draco failed to identify. They placed in each corner of the room, placed about 1 and a half metres away from the beds and the little wooden nightstands on the side of them. He noticed how that nightstands were completely empty, there wasn't even a candle-holder or little gas-lamp in sight for reading in bed - neither was there one for the bureaus. He supposed that he'd have to buy one or maybe two on the next trip to Hogsmeade. Draco wanted the bureau by the window on the left side, because it was placed right next to one of the two rows of big diamond pane windows, framed in dark rosewood, the diamond-shaped glass, separated by black steel. In between the large windows, was a large old open dark wooden bookcase with four rows. Draco wanted his books to be on the first shelf, so that he didn't have to bend over for his books, and would be able to reach them, from his chair by the desk he'd chosen. He wouldn't have to move from that seat for hours. He liked that he had a proper excuse to stare out the windows for hours, and by sitting at his own desk 'studying' - he had one. 

Exactly 7 feet away from each bureau, was a four-poster bed made of polished ebony with white drapes tied to each poster. "So much for privacy..." Draco grumbled as he moved closer to take a look at them, careful to not step on the fragile-looking rug. The drapes were rough, they looked old and thick, but were practically see-through. It made him hope that his new dorm-mates weren't prissy about him having guests in his bed - then he wouldn't complain about their, probably loud wanking-sessions either - or their overnight guests if they had any. He sighed loudly and sat down on the bared mattress to get a good feel of it before putting on his sheets. He sat there for a while, just bouncing lightly on the soft mattress as he looked around the room, that he was to live in for about 10 months. In the space between the 2 beds on each side, stood a tall wardrobe made of the same sort of dark wood as the bookcase and bureaus, with brass knobs. It had 4 drawers at the bottom, probably for pants and socks, 2 drawers for each person he figured. He sighed it was rather small - compared to it being shared with another man, and he hoped it had an enlargement charm installed - if not, he'd take care of that. If he could.

He pursed his lips as he looked the room over again, trying to find the door that led to the bathroom that Mcgonagall had talked about. He hadn't seen a door when he walked in and found it on the other side of the room, in between the two beds on the other side. He briefly wondered if that meant the 4 of them would have to share the wardrobe on the side he was standing, but that didn't seem to be the case, thankfully. It stood next to the door he had entered from. The bathroom door was an exact replica of the main-door, the only difference being that the door to the bathroom had a little gold-key hanging on a hook on the door, probably to let the residents know, that it wasn't occupied. It was a rather good system in Draco's eyes - but he knew that it wouldn't stop the everlasting 'Are you done in there?!' or 'Hurry up I gotta' use the loo!'. His eyebrow twitched at the all too familiar memories of those yells and grunts from outside the door, when he was in there himself.

"Oh well.. I should probably start unpacking..." He mumbled to himself as he got up from the bed, locating his trunk in the corner of the room, ready to be placed in front of whatever bed that was chosen by the owner. He'd come to like talking to himself during his life, he had always been very alone at the manor, talking to himself almost filled that silence somehow. Draco reached into the right pocket of his robe and pulled out his mother's ebony wand and levitated his heavy trunk to the foot of his new bed. He tried to ignore the feeling of magic streaming up his arm - it didn't feel the same as it once had. He missed his old wand, but Potter had it and there was no bloody way he was asking for it back even if he felt like he'd lost a part of his arm. Potter had even had the nerve not to mention that he still had his wand when he'd knocked him over on the train.  
"..Speccy git.." Draco mumbled to himself as he opened the trunk and looked at the tenderly packed contents and found himself smiling softly. Not at how good it felt to know, that at least Potter still was the same - but because his mother had sneaked in and packed a large box of Honeydukes chocolate on top of his books. He was thankful that he'd hidden his cigarettes in his cauldron, beneath the professional potion's kit his mother had gotten him for his 'late 18th' birthday. He suddenly missed her as badly as he'd done the first year, he'd been away from her. 

He started sliding his tongue over the edge of his teeth, distracting himself with the sound of his tongue scraping across them instead of thinking about his mum, and how he still could smell that familiar perfume on the shawl of hers that he was wearing. He sighed as he slowly started unpacking all his books, placing them on the top shelf in alphabetical order, feeling oddly irritated by the fact that the books weren't the same size. He pursed his lips as he looked at them, avoiding looking out the window as he started moving his quills, ink, parchment and other essentials to his bureau. He sat in the Thomas Chippendale chair by the window, trying to take special notice in the light blue, almost white padding on the chair as he reached back to close the thin, white lace curtains, that thankfully wasn't as dusty as Draco had first assumed. He didn't want to look out there, fearing that something could be standing outside, staring right back at him. It wasn't an irrelevant fear he figured - they were right next to the Forbidden forest after all. He just hoped that Blaise had been assigned to the same room as him, that meant he wouldn't have to sleep alone.  

Soon enough Draco had moved all of his robes and other clothes into the closet and drawers, with an easy expanding charm - he couldn't manage many advanced spells with his mother's wand, he would leave Blaise to do it again later, without embarrassing himself. He placed the chocolates, his moisturizer, his jar of lube, calming draughts and his cigarettes in his nightstand, locking it afterwards. He didn't want anyone messing with his stash. When living in a dorm-room, one learned to hide and lock one's drawers just in case. Blaise never had locked his own - he apparently liked people finding his 'Play Wizard' or other evidence of him shagging about.   
He spelled on his white Egyptian sheets and his white bedding, enlarging and fluffing the duvet and four pillows he had brought along as per usual. He put on the dark green, gray and white bedspread stroking the warm familiar fabric. His mother had probably insisted on the elves packing that for him - she was fussing without trying to make it obvious. However it joyed Draco to know that his mother did worry about him even if he'd liked her not to. It was probably too her mind off of his father's condition just for a while.   
                                                                                                                             ***********

"Oi - 'Mione what's your dorm-number? I heard that Padma and Parvati are in room 5." Ron said, looking at his girlfriend. Hermione sighed slightly as she heard. "8." She said with a smile as she looked at her parchment. "I thought you liked Padma?" Harry asked, looking over at the giggling twins. "I did - I do... But she's very attached to Parvati at the moment." Hermione mumbled, she looked like she felt horrible about saying it. Ron touched her arm carefully, smiling at her. "Then you'e not far from me and Harry's room - we're in 12." He said brightly, trying to cheer her up. Harry showed her a crooked smile. "If you're lucky, you'll probably be sharing with some of the other Ravenclaws - or some Hufflepuffs."  
"Or some Slytherins." She pointed out, watching Harry shake his head. "I don't think so 'Mione.. There's so few of them here - Grengrass, Davis, Bulstrode, that brunette that always ran about with Parkinson and that girl with glasses are back.. And then there's Zabini, Goyle, 2 lads I don't recognize and Draco... but that's the only ones." Harry said with a shrug. Ron nodded. "The snakes keep to themselves. I'd do too if I'd bee-ow!" Ron grumbled as Hermione pinched his arm. "Don't call them that. You know as well as I do that most of the Slytherin's had no choice but... well... Those girls aren't here, they probably already went back to their room." She said, taking a step back. "I'll go find mine too - you two should do the same, we have class in the morning." She reminded them, as she started walking. "Oi.. 'Mione I'm sorry." Ron said as he jogged after her, leaving Harry to walk behind them both, shaking his head fondly. They'd never stop fighting, would they? 

Harry watched the two of them as he passed them to get to his and Ron's room. Ron followed Hermione to her room, apologizing to her as she opened the door, covering them from his vision and Harry assumed that they were discussing the subject, or that Hermione was scolding him from the angry whispers he heard. He sighed and shook his head before turning to the door before him, smiling at the number above the door. 12. Like his house in London - his house, Grimmauld Place nr. 12 in London, Islington. It was his house now, his home. And whilst it was grimy and old, and Walburga Black was still screaming horrid words at him each time he passed which made him consider tearing down the wall himself - but it was his, like it had been Sirius' home, it was his now. He'd tended to it a lot during the summer, it almost looked decent now. Molly hadn't liked him doing it by himself, but he'd heard Hermione say, that it had been his way of dealing with what he'd been through.  
He couldn't say that it was true, or that it wasn't. He thought he had spent most of his time at the Burrow, helping with the rebuild as well as spending time with the Weasley's and Hermione, only leaving when he felt that they needed more time, to be a family, to be thankful about escaping the war, with nothing but scarred memories - and the occasional missing ear. The laughter hadn't left the home.

He sighed tiredly as he opened the door and took a step inside, opening his eyes as he smelled smoke. His wand was out before he had time to realize it and as he looked around for fire, all he saw was 3 empty beds, one occupied shelf on the bookcase and a pair of pale, long, bare legs. "..Malfoy...?" He said, blinking in confusion as he saw Draco properly. He was sitting by what he'd claimed as his desk, only clad in a much too large, white night-shirt, a few strands of blonde hair being tugged back and a cigarette in his mouth. "Potter." Draco greeted as he blew out yet another cloud of thin smoke, that quickly disappeared. "..Why didn't you open the window?... Are you even allowed to do that in here?" Harry found himself asking as he walked to the window on the opposite side of Draco and opened it. Draco shrugged and didn't answer him. 

"So... um..." Harry started, pulling his trunk to the bed by the window, opposite of Draco's. He didn't notice that Draco rolled his eyes at his pathetic excuse for starting a conversation. "I guess we'll be sharing rooms for the year then..?" He asked, smiling sheepishly as he started unpacking his things. "It seems like it, yes." Draco answered quietly as he scribbled away, assuming that Harry would let the conversation go with that answer. Harry did not get the hint. "Why do you have so many pillows?" Harry then asked as he started on his bedding. "There's only one on my bed." He said, chuckling slightly, not really liking the silence.  
"I bring my own." Draco answered in the same clipped tone - he wondered if Potter had been dropped to many times on the head during the war, and couldn't muster up the energy to feel bad about thinking like that. "Oh... I see." Harry said, turning to smile in Draco's direction, but turned back to his trunk as he realized that Draco didn't even look at him. He was hoping to actually get a little friendly with him, or just be able to act civilized around each other, especially if they were to live with one another for 10 months. It seemed that Draco had meant what he'd said on the train. Harry already knew that he could look forward to the utter awkwardness of running into Malfoy when one headed to the loo or out the door. The most embarrassing scenario he could come up with, was Draco walking in on him wanking in the shower or... wherever he did it. The tables could turn, and he could walk in on Draco wanking too - Draco looked like the type that teased himself for a long time, bef- he coughed, forcing down a blush as he thought about it. He really shouldn't be thinking about that at all... A blush crept up his neck at that, and he swallowed thickly. Malfoy's silence made him feel odd... After vanishing a bloody dark lord one wasn't supposed to be bothered by the awkward silence of a lad one'd almost.. killed.

He flinched as he realized that, all other thought vanishing from his mind as dread settled firmly in his stomach- he had never even apologized for doing that. Draco's decision about not wanting to interact with him, the way he had looked as Harry spoke at his trial suddenly made more sense to Harry. He had, actually forgotten that he almost slashed Draco completely open, leaving him on the waterlogged bathroom floor, soaked and choking on his own blood. A feeling of guilt and dread suddenly filled Harry's entire body, his shoulders sinking as if they were filled with led. How on earth could he have forgotten about that? He needed to apologize to Draco, to explain to him, that he didn't know that the spell would do that, that he didn't mean to do that to him. Draco had saved his life during the war, and even if he had saved his as well, it still didn't justify his actions - or so Harry felt. 

Harry looked at Draco again - he wanted to say it, the words weighed down on his tongue. "So um.. Who did you write?" Harry asked after a while of silence. Coward. He couldn't say it. He actually couldn't bloody say it! 'Coward!' He shouted in his own head. If he couldn't even apologize, then why, why was he so keen on bringing the justified silent lad into conversation once more?  
With this, Draco sighed and finally turned around to look at him, placing his cigarette in the enchanted crystal ashtray on his desk, vanishing the ash and the bud as he did so. Harry wondered what he'd say to him, if he would point out that he had almost murdered him in cold blood and then spoke for him at a trial to save his life. If he did say just that - Harry would say, that Draco didn't deserve to die. That he never had deserved that - but he knew, he wouldn't be able to. "I didn't write you if that's what you thin-" "Oi Harry - Zabini is sharing with us t- Bloody hell - Malfoy!" Ron uttered in surprise as he saw Draco, who just looked at Ron as if he'd been there the whole time. "Weasley..." He greeted tiredly, turning his back to Harry once more. "Blaise... 'Can't get rid of you it seems." He said finishing his 6 inches long letter, signing it with a lazy gesture of his hand. 

"As if you wanted to get rid of me, pill-" Blaise stopped mid-sentence as Draco glared dangerously up at him, before silently turning back to his letter with a bored expression on his face. "...Right..." Ron muttered as he walked further into the room, wrinkling his nose, dragging his trunk to the bed next to Harry's. ".. Doesn't it smell like muggle smokes in here?" Ron asked, sniffing loudly - Harry was getting more and more convinced that Ron's patronus couldn't have fitted him better. He momentarily looked over at Draco, who ignored Ron's comment and started sealing his letter with wax, marking it with the Malfoy crest. Harry shrugged as Ron looked at him as he started unpacking his trunk, changing the sheets on his bed. Malfoy was awfully quiet now.  
Harry looked at the both of them. He expected Draco to snap at Ron or the other way around like always. But Draco looked like he barely heard a thing, looking at yet another piece of empty parchment with a tired expression. He then looked over at Ron, and assumed the scolding Hermione had given him before still rang in his mind. Harry didn't blame him. It was a long time before anyone said anything.

***********

"Oi - Draco, you bloody filled the whole thing." Draco didn't even look in Blaise's direction, but removed his eyes from the empty piece of parchment that plagued him somehow. "Put an Enlargement charm on it you wanker. I'm sure you can manage that much - it's only a wardrobe not your prick." Draco said sourly from his seat, crossing his legs and resting his head in his hand, holding the tip of a clean quill up against his lips, as his elbows rested on the table. He knew Blaise was smirking.  
The easiest way of distracting Blaise from asking questions, was mentioning his prick.  
"I've barely been here 10 minutes and you're already going on about my prick. That hungr-" Again with the glare. A glare that clearly stated that Draco wouldn't hesitate to cut of Blaise's beloved prick with a blunt potion's knife if he kept talking. Blaise concentrated on his clothes again with a peculiar little snort, whilst Draco looked at Potter and Weasley out of the corner of his eyes discreetly. They were just looking at Blaise. They looked rather surprised about how he and Blaise talked to each other - but then again, Draco could barely imagine Potter calling Weasley a wanker. To be quite honest - he didn't even think Potter wanked, he didn't look the type. 

***********

Harry was putting books on the second shelf, looking over at Zabini and Draco as they spoke, rather.. harshly, to each other. He supposed that was just how they talked, because neither of the seemed to mind the words. He shrugged it off - he called Ron a bloody wanker, and Ron always did the same, but they always laughed when doing so. He sighed to himself and looked over at Draco, who suddenly had gone quiet again. He found himself staring at his, long pale legs - he wondered how soft the skin was... and if he could close his hand around his thin ankles. Only when his eyes started seeking out new fields of vision, further up, over Malfoy's knee he shook his head as he realized that he was staring and looked down at his books, blushing. He shouldn't be looking at someone's legs like that - especially not another bloke's.  
He didn't really like how quiet it all was. He had never unpacked his things at Hogwarts in such silence. It felt strange that no one was laughing, joking, or sharing sweets and drinking butterbeers. He really hoped that it wouldn't stay like this. He wanted his last year to be a fresh start, a nice peaceful one where he'd gain a lot of pleasant memories to hold on to, for all the years to come. No fights, no war - no dark, snake-like tosser to roam through his head. He just wanted to be Harry. Harry, who had a lot of friends that he played Quidditch with, studied with, went to pubs with and laughed with. He smiled at that thought - he just wanted to be a regular bloke. 

 

***********

"Shite mate, I'd forgotten how bloody anal you are!" Draco's head snapped to the side, already glaring at Blaise and at the two Gryffindorks, who was looking at Blaise as well, in either shock or amazement. "Everything in here is color-coordinated... You even fucking color-coordinate your pants-" "Don't touch my bloody pants you pillock." Draco snarled from his desk as he looked at Blaise reaching down for his pants. He was pretty sure Blaise was looking for knickers.  
"I don't know where your hands have been - but I don't want whatever you've caught transmitted onto my clothes and my person!" Draco hissed as he stood up, trying to act like he didn't actually give a shit as he grabbed a book from his shelf, his face turned away from the lot, hiding his blush from them. He actually was worried about Blaise finding knickers in there, because he did have one or maybe 3 pairs - that Blaise had gotten him once - for fun obviously... That didn't need further explanation. He had hidden them inside of his pants, and away from curious eyes. He ought to have known better, and hid them in his night-stand from the start, but on the other hand, it wouldn't be ideal.

He watched Blaise enlarge their closet, before sitting down with a thick potion's book that he put aside. He found himself looking down at the piece of empty parchment once more, dipping his quill in ink and stopping right before it hit the parchment. He started chewing lightly on his lower lip, and with a shaky hand he found himself writing 'Dear father' and then stopping again, swallowing the lump forming in his throat. He couldn't remember the last time he had written a letter to his father, and it felt like he as writing a goodbye letter somehow. He just wanted to pretend that his father wasn't sick, and that he could write a letter to him. He wanted to let his father know, who he was, that he was his son and that he loved him - because a letter would never change it's writing, even if his father's memory changed.  
He wiped the tip of the quill with his fingers, not minding the black ink, smothering the pink of his fingertips as he put down the quill beside the parchment that he turned around, so Potter wouldn't see it, so Blaise and Weasley wouldn't see it, so that he wouldn't have to, because it made his eyes grow warm. He shook his head and looked away from the offending piece of blank parchment and turned to watch Blaise, the book from before in his lap.

He sat there for a while, listening to Potter and Weasley talk lowly and laugh amongst each other, and heard Blaise speak to them every now and again, and laugh with them. Draco wondered if they'd forgotten about their past years as enemies, forgotten about all of the insults and fights and curses or if they were ignoring it, for the sake of getting along.

************

Harry was surprised at how easy it was to talk to Zabini. He felt like this was normal, that this was what it was supposed to feel like when living in a dorm with 3 other lads - even if one of them didn't speak to the others. He wanted that feeling he'd had back in his first year, where the 5 of them had gotten to know each other, played games and talked. He wanted to be a normal lad, who drank pints and butterbeers with his dorm-mates, talking about Quidditch and laughing about their petty childhood rivalry. Yes, this was exactly what he wanted - especially if he could get Draco to talk to them all too. But he knew, that he shouldn't get his hopes up for that.  
He looked over at Malfoy at that thought, momentarily distracted from one of Ron's stories about George and Fred's pranks. He noticed that Draco hadn't said anything, not made a single sound for quite some time now. He wondered if he felt left out, since Zabini was talking to them now. He wanted to bring Draco into the conversation, but when he'd tried before, the lad hadn't seemed very interested in having a conversation with him or a friendship for that matter. Harry understood why, but he wished he didn't.

"Merlin Zabini!" Harry turned as he heard Ron utter and a he did so, he felt a blush rise to his cheeks, ears and all the way down his neck as he saw massive amounts of wizard-jazz magazines spread over the floor. "I've lived with 5 brothers for the majority of my life - and never have I seen so much porn in one fucking place." Ron said, smirking up at Zabini who was waggling his eyebrows at the both of them. "Choose a few - they're new." Zabini said, pointing at the pile. "Take it as a peace-offering." He said with a broad smile.

Harry was almost speechless - there were almost as many jazz mags as he collected in a bloody year - and he had to throw some out every once in a while. He scanned the pile, first to just look it over - then for his favorite jazz mag - Quidditch lasses. Skinny and fit witches alike, usually, they were small-chested, but Harry didn't really care for large-chested birds anyhow. Sometimes he even thought Ginny's were too large. He cleared his throat, shaking his head a bit, before looking back up to scan through the pile, not liking the fact that he was choosing jazz mags with Zabini, Ron and Draco looking at him - it felt incredibly odd to him. Sure he joked about it with Ron and Seamus and the other lads on the Quidditch teams - but never had he imagined he would choose porn with Malfoy looking at him. Prissy Draco Malfoy whom sat there, crossing his bare legs elegantly as if he didn't exist - as if the pile of porn didn't exist. 

Harry's ears were burning bright red as he looked at Ron, without a single bloody pull of a muscle in his face looked through the magazines, smirking brightly each time he found one he liked. "What are you waiting for Potter?" He heard Zabini ask from his spot on his bed, raising an eyebrow at him. "I'll bet there'll be something you like." He said, throwing one at Harry who caught it with a flushed face, blinking as he looked down at it as a busty brunette with red lips winked up at him. He moved it slightly away from his face and tossed it back to Zabini. "I don't think that's my st-"  
"Morgana's saggy tits!" He heard Ron utter - a shocked one this time, like he'd seen a spider. "What?" Zabini asked, before snorting. "What do you mean what? That's gay porn for Merlin's sake! Why do you have that?" He asked, holding it by the corner of the magazine as if he was holding a dead mouse. 

"Oh... Is it the one with the muscled chap or the skinny one with the great arse?" Blaise asked, his tone amused as he smirked at Ron. "..The first one..." Ron said, looking almost pained at seeing dark-haired, bare, muscled man on the cover, smirking and winking, his hand out of sight as the muscles in his pelvis moved. "Why do you have them? Are you a.. you know?" Ron asked carefully as if he was sure Hermione could hear him through the wall. Blaise shook his head.  
"Well..." Blaise started with a snort. "That depends on my mood. I can appreciate a great arse as much as a nice set of tits. I like fanny more, but you know.." Zabini said with a shrug. "You're disgusting." Zabini looked towards Draco with a broad smirk as Harry did the same, looking at the lad carefully as he thought about the other magazine in the pile. "Aw come on Dray, don't be so boring. I got you some too!" He said with a short laugh. "Throw him the one you're holding Weasley - i you're done reading it, there's nothing wrong with being curious." He said with a smirk, nodding towards Draco, who scowled as he showed him a manicured middle finger. 

"Again with the fucking nickname." He snarled angrily. Ron was blinking rapidly, looking at Draco who was narrowing his eyes at Blaise. "So... um..." Ron started mumbling as he looked down at the magazine. "Quidditch Lad huh...?" He said with a nervous laugh as he lightly threw it towards Draco who caught it without taking his eyes of Zabini for a second, placing it on his table. Harry was fairly impressed with that - but then again, Draco was a good seeker - he had always enjoyed playing him. Draco was clearly seething with anger, glaring hard at the three lads in front of him. "Stop bloody staring at me like I'm a muggle-contraption Weasley!" He snarled at Ron who turned his head down, blushing madly. 

"Oh so what if they know you're a pouf! That doesn't matter does it Potter?" Zabini asked, turning the angry Malfoy's attention towards Harry, who had thrown the magazine Blaise had thrown at him away earlier. Harry felt like he had just been thrown in front of a rabid dog, his 'comrades' fleeing from it and using him as a distraction. He had defeated Voldemort - he shouldn't be scared of Malfoy. "Of course not!" He said, maybe a little too fast and loud, his face as red as the spread on his bed. "I-I mean.. It's none of our concern who you um... sleep.. with.." He uttered - sex had never been so embarrassing to talk about ever... well yes - but it most certainly had never been this awkward. Because this, this was Draco Malfoy.

"Exactly..." He heard Ron clear his throat. "I mean.. It's not like none of us haven't had sex before..." He said, not looking at Harry, who refused to look at Ron as he said that. He didn't know whether it was because Ron was Ginny's brother, or because he was ashamed of the fact that he barely could get an erection when thinking about her.  
Zabini smirked as he said that. "Yes, we've all heard of you, and your conquests Weasley. Brown - Granger." Zabini said, waggling his eyebrows at Ron who grinned back at him. "And Potter - Chang and Weasley's sister." He said, smirking over at Harry who looked down, blushing.  
"I've never heard of any of yours though, Zabini." Ron said, effectively turning Zabini's attention towards himself once more with a smirk. Harry figured that he'd rather not think about Harry feeling up his sister. Harry didn't really want to either.

************

Draco snorted at that - that little Weasel clearly wanted to hear about Blaise's conquests, and then tell him about his own. It was a good chance to distract them from the topic they were on - Draco had never been more relieved about Blaise's everlasting want to show off before. Blaise smirked and cleared his throat, looking up at Weasley whom - as he'd figured - lit up like a Christmas tree.  
"Well? Come on mate, tell us." Weasley said eagerly, sitting down on his own bed with a broad smirk. As the 3 of them were distracted, Draco unlocked his nightstand and placed the magazine in his drawer, leaving it unlocked. It shouldn't go to waste - how often did he get to see actual good-looking men in Quidditch-robes and uniforms? Not that often. He then made his way across the room and into the bathroom, unnoticed hopefully and washed his ink-stained fingers and got ready for bed. 

He glared at himself in the mirror, forcing the blush of embarrassment to go away. He knew that his dorm-mates would have found out eventually, that didn't bother him. What bothered him was, that it was Potter and Weasley that knew, and that Potter had had the nerve to blush as he spoke 'for' him. He couldn't even say sex. Speccy git. And then there was Blaise with his stupid smile, and porn, more than eager to reveal Draco's as well as his own sexuality. He might as well have told the Gryffindorks that they'd be shagging every now and again. He'd make sure to scratch up Blaise's back nicely tonight - because even the magnificent Harry fucking Potter's presence wasn't going to stop him from getting shagged tonight.

When he got back, he noticed that Potter wasn't as active in the conversation as Blaise and Weasley was. He was listening clearly, sounding and looking very interested in the very explicit parts of Blaise's story about the birds he met in Italy over the summer.  
"-you should've seen it, I've never experienced a girl who approached anyone like that, directly asking me to bloody shag her in the ar-" "Merlin that's disgusting! Stop talking." He said with a snort. He'd really rather not hear it. He wasn't jealous - he couldn't care less that Blaise did sleep with other people, he just didn't want to hear about it, especially not women. "Aw, come on Draco. Don't tell me you've got Eurotophobia?" Blaise asked with a snort of amusement, leaving Weasley and Potter to look at them in confusion. "Is that a word you learned specially to torment me with? I'm not scared of female genitalia." He said with a huff as he walked to his bed. 

"So um.. You've never seen a naked bird, in real life?" He heard Weasley utter from his bed. So he actually intended to speak with him then? "Of course I have. I found it disturbing and very unappealing, and I never want to see it again for as long as I live." He said, crawling in under the duvet. "But if you've never been with a lass, how do you know you don't like it?" He heard Potter ask very quietly.  
Draco looked up at him - he was blushing, purposely not looking at the others it seemed, but Weasley did look rather interested in what Draco was about to say. He noticed that Potter was looking at the pile of magazines and then back at him. He wondered why... but didn't put much into it as another thought pressed on. Draco had always been convinced that the day Ronald Weasley would be interested in what he had to say would be the day Hagrid's creatures would be cute and cuddly - and wouldn't bite. "Well, if you've never been with a bloke how do you know you don't like that?" He asked, looking at them. Weasley grimaced and Potter blinked, looking at Draco as if he'd just solved the mystery of why the sky was blue. "It's just something you know. And I know that I never will be able to appreciate a bird the way I appreciate a bloke." Draco said with a sigh, wondering why he even was talking to these… apes. 

Potter blushed at the answer. "I see." He said, making Draco roll his eyes in annoyance. "Now, if you are all satisfied with my answer and feel no further need to question me about my sexual orientation: I for one, am going to bed." Draco said, looking at Blaise, with a saying look in his eyes. "Goodnight." He said, reaching for his wand. Normally, or at least a few years ago he would have left it on his nightstand or in it for that matter. But he couldn't do that anymore. He felt like he needed to sleep with it in his hand, or place it under his pillow.  
He waved it a fluent movement, and the curtains closed around the bed. He knew he should probably have put a silencing charm or a privacy spell on his bed, maybe even one to block out the lightening from the still lit chandelier, but he couldn't be bothered. He placed his wand in the tiny crack in between the headboard and and the mattress. He had placed his mother's shawl under it, and the thought of it being there comforted him somehow.  
He lied there, enjoying the moment of silence, before the others started talking and laughing - quietly. But it was nice, he almost liked it better than the silence. He knew, that Blaise wouldn't sneak into his bed, before the others had gone to sleep - so he knew, that he had at least a good hour to sleep in. It didn't take him very long to fall asleep when he knew that there were people around him. Even if it was the speccy scar-face.

************

Harry noticed the way Draco looked at Zabini before closing his curtains. He, wasn't really sure what the look meant though. He ought to know better than put much thought to it - he couldn't help himself, it was a bad habit of his, after stalk-following Draco for a year. He sighed as he looked over at the bed, the curtains hiding the blond lad. He wasn't sure, why he had asked Draco how he knew, or why he had asked him anything at all. It wasn't any of his business. Draco hadn't asked him why he slept with a bird.  
He had never thought much about homosexuality before getting to know, that Dumbledore himself had been and he had certainly never thought that Draco was gay. Pansy Parkinson had been all over him for years, he had taken her to the Yule ball. He wondered if he should have told Draco that Dumbledore was gay - it might have made the lad feel better about his sexuality getting revealed. He hadn't looked too happy about it. 

"Are you two together?" Harry looked up as he heard Ron say something. He thought it was him at first, but quickly realized that Ron had asked Zabini and not him. "You and Malfoy I mean." Ron said, looking awfully serious suddenly. Harry eyed Draco's bed, seeing if they disturbed the lad's sleep, or if he was listening - like he would be able to tell.  
"Nah." He heard Zabini say, and looked at the shrugging lad. Zabini looked at Draco's bed out of the corner of his eye, like Harry had done seconds before, just to make sure that the lad wasn't listening, appearntly. Harry figured that Zabini was lying. Why else would he look at Draco's bed like that?  
"Well mates - I think I'll head to the loo and then go to bed." Zabini said, standing up and walking past the two of them an into the loo. 

"... Did you think Malfoy was.." Ron started swaying a bit, not wanting to say 'gay' aloud. Harry shrugged. "I've never thought about it like that." Harry said honestly. Ron nodded and lied back on his bed, stretching - Harry did the same. "I thought he was dating Parkinson." He heard Ron say from his bed - he could almost see the grimace that spread over Ron's face as he mentioned her. "Me too." Harry answered, closing his eyes momentarily.  
"Poor sod, I'd turn into a fairy too if I had her pug-face slobbering all over me." He said, laughing to himself. Harry couldn't help but snort with laughter, after everything he'd experienced with Pansy Parkinson, he could say that she was a bad person through and through - her looks matched her personality. She had been scared when she tried to hand him over to Voldemort, fair enough. But she still tried to hand him over to his certain death - that he went himself didn't matter. She had never been a pleasant person. "Yeah... Me too." He answered with a snort, looking up wooden roof of his bed. He started thinking about the ceiling in the Great Hall. It was only the boring beige with cracks when the spell ended, when the war ended. But it was back, to being that beautiful evening sky it had been the first day he came there. And he was happy.

"Well, 'night mates." Zabini said as he passed his and Ron's beds on the way to his own, startling Harry a bit - he must have drifted for.. 15-20 minutes. "Night Zabini." Harry said, getting off of his bed very reluctantly. He was tired in an odd way, he hadn't felt for a long time, it had been a long day. He supposed he could have went ahead and just stripped down and gone to bed - much like Ron - but these little things like brushing his teeth, somehow made going to sleep easier, knowing that nothing was off, that he could go to sleep calmly without real worry.  
As he reached the sink, and placed his toothbrush in the brass-cup on the shelf beneath the mirror, he looked at the other 3. One was blue just like his own, then there was Ron's bright orange one and then there was one made of silver, matching a silver brush on another shelf next to the mirror. He could only assume that it was Draco's. He had always imagined that Draco would have stuff like this, that he literately brushed his teeth with silver and toothpaste with diamond speckles. He chuckled to himself as he thought about it - it had always seemed like a stupid fantasy of jealousy of sorts, but it had proved to be true. He couldn't help himself but be curios about Draco's shelf, with all the vials, jars and flasks.

He picked up one of the flasks, where the cap seemed to be loose. It looked like shampoo or something along those lines. He could very easily have put it away but he didn't. He placed it under his nose and sniffed it, pulling it away to look at it - he could have sworn he saw specks of leaf-gold in there. It smelled like he had imagined Draco's hair would smell. It smelled like pears and black tea and Harry couldn't help but sniff it again, closing his eyes as he did so before putting it back on Draco's shelf, picking up a beautiful blue glass vial, hoping to discover a new fragrance. It sniffed it quickly, before swirling the contents. It was oily - and Harry thought he'd seen something like that before, in Aunt Petunia's fancy bathroom. It smelled rather strongly like Earl Grey and lemon and Harry was tempted to pour some of the oil out into his hand to proper smell it, but put the vial away, picking up at new flask.  
He did this again and again, opening every single flask, vial and jar, discovering fragrance after fragrance; honey, vanilla, a few different ones that smelled like a wet summer forest and one that smelled like blackberries which resembled blackberry marmalade so much that Harry wouldn't have noticed if he found this on a piece of toast. He even picked up the toothpaste that Draco had brought, noting the pleasant fragrance of English mint and the oddly shiny appearance before putting it down and moving on. Only after having sniffed every single one, Harry was satisfied and pulled away from the shelf and went to bed, completely forgetting to brush his teeth. 

************

Harry was tired, really tired - but for some reason he couldn't sleep. He'd had trouble with this for a while, but he supposed that this was normal after fighting a war. He hadn't brushed his teeth today either. His body was still in battle-mode, even if his scar no longer hurt, even though he knew he had vanished Voldemort. His nightmares had stopped, he had nothing to fear any longer.  
He sighed and turned onto his side, listening to Ron's snores and mumbles - at least Ron didn't have trouble sleeping, but when had he ever? The thought made Harry chuckle softly to himself, the sound of someone moving about in their bed overpowering the low sound. He didn't know why, but as soon as he heard the sound of someone's feet hitting the bare floor, he stiffened, laying there as quietly as possible, holding his breath. He listened carefully, tightening his hold on his wand. He still slept with it under his pillow - it wasn't only his body that was prepared for battle at all times, his mind was as well. He reckoned that it would be a long time until he could fully relax once more, or for once in his life. 

"Oi.. Draco, 'you awake?" He heard Zabini whisper, as he moved across the floor and over to Draco's bed. Harry still held his breath - he didn't know why he did that though. Was he afraid to get caught? And doing what exactly - it wasn't like he was listening on purpose, he just so happened to be awake, and now it was so quiet that he couldn't help but listen... Wait - afraid to get caught doing what? What exactly did he himself think, that Zabini was doing in the middle of the night?... Okay now he was curious, and most definitely listening in on purpose.  
Harry kept still as he heard movement from the bed across from his. "Oi.." He heard Zabini say again, and soon enough found himself blushing at the wet sounds of skin being kissed and licked. He knew he shouldn't be listening in on this... but, he couldn't help himself. 

************

"Mhm..?" Draco hummed as he was awaken by wet, warm kisses on his neck and a hand up under his night-shirt, grabbing his arse firmly. "Merl- Blaise it's in the middle of the bloody night." He muttered tiredly, making no movement to push Blaise away - he didn't want to either. He was amazed that he'd fallen asleep so quickly. He supposed being back in a dorm-room, with 3 other lads, somehow made him feel safer. The lack of a snakefaced psycopath and screaming muggles probably did help too. "So?" Blaise said huskily, nipping right below his ear, making Draco moan very quietly. His ears were always a sweet spot, that Blaise knew all to well. "Come on Dray.." Blaise muttered against his neck, pushing his hips to Draco's lower back. 

"Again with the fucking nickname - Oh..!" Draco moaned as Blaise pressed his hips against him, letting Draco feel the hardness growing in between his legs. Merlin it had been a long time since he'd been shagged. "Yeah, you like that don't you?" Blaise asked in a husky voice, Draco felt his smirk against his neck. Arsehole. "Don't you?" Draco said, turning his head, to mouth at Blaise's jaw. Blaise didn't bother to answer, and just chuckled, moving his hands onto Draco's hardening cock, pushing against him eagerly. "Uhn..." Draco groaned, pushing himself back against Blaise, he was slowly, but steadily growing hard and aroused. "How long has it been since you got a good fuck?" Blaise asked huskily, and Draco wanted to punch him but, it was a bit hard to want that more than the feel of Blaise's hard cock up against the small of his back. "Hmm? Weeks?" Blaise started placing wet kisses under Draco's ear. "Months? Maybe years?" Blaise asked, nibbling on his earlobe. Draco groaned softly at that. "A year." He answered hurriedly, wanting Blaise to just get on with it.  
"A year?" Blaise asked with a snort, and Draco wanted to roll his eyes but didn't. "People aren't exactly lining up to sleep with ex-death eaters you know.." He mumbled tightening his hold on the pillow beneath him. Blaise chuckled behind him. "If they knew how great it felt to be in your arse, I'll bet you you'd never get a break ." Draco groaned, both in arousal from being groped and in annoyance. "Shut up and fuck me." He said in a voice laced with arousal and impatience, hiding any sign of irritation. 

Blaise chuckled again, kissing beneath his ear wetly as he pulled Draco's nightshirt up over his hips. "Take that off." He mumbled, his voice husky and somehow serious. Draco knew that meant that Blaise was getting impatient too - he never had been a patient lover. He sat up and hurriedly pulled the shirt over his head, letting Blaise reach over to his unlocked nightstand, to get the jar of lube he knew Draco hid there. "Spread your legs and lie down." Blaise said huskily, kissing Draco's neck and collarbone wetly. Draco closed his eyes and did just that, enjoying the feel of his soft sheets that had grown a little cold again. 

He sighed shakily as he listened to Blaise coat his fingers with his home-brewed lube. It was a loud, dirty sound that Draco never failed to identify, it made his body tense in anticipation. He spread his legs, looking at Blaise with hungry eyes. Normally, in the dungeons Blaise would take him in complete darkness, not wanting to risk getting caught, not that there were any windows for the light to shine through - but here, here he could see Blaise, he could see his aroused smirk and his beautiful dark skin light up with the light streaming in through thin curtains. He licked his lips and arched his back a little, making a small keening sound in his throat. "Hurry up you prick.." He moaned, making Blaise chuckle huskily. "Someone's particularly needy, huh?" He asked teasingly, tapping Draco's perineum teasingly with his cold, wet fingers making Draco hiss and shudder. He started rubbing the skin there, putting slight pressure on it before letting his fingers slide down and circle Draco's winking hole, letting them catch on Draco's swollen rim.

"Oh Merlin…" Draco moaned, pushing his head back into his pillows as Blaise teased his hole before pushing a single finger into him. He couldn't help but push his hips downwards. "More." He demanded with a breathy moan. Blaise obeyed and pushed in another finger, panting with arousal as he 'searched' for Draco's prostate. Draco knew damn well that Blaise was teasing him, he knew exactly where to find it. Draco couldn't wait for it anymore, and pushed himself up onto his elbows, and pushing himself down onto Blaise's fingers with a long moan as his prostate was jabbed. "Oh gods!" He whimpered, burying his head in Blaise's neck, panting and lapping as he wrapped one hand around Blaise's neck, supporting himself and placed the other on Blaise's clothed cock, rubbing and stroking it through the thin cotton of his pants. "Fuck!" Blaise started thrusting into Draco's hand as he desperately started spreading Draco's legs wider with his free hand. Draco mouthed the other man's jaw, scraping his teeth along it hungrily as he pushed his hand down into Blaise's pants, grabbing his cock firmly, stroking it as slowly as he could - if Blaise thought his teasing would be forgotten, he didn't know Draco at all. "Bloody hell.." Blaise cursed, making Draco smirk against the warm skin of his neck as he felt said man tighten his muscles in frustration.

"Turn around - now." Blaise ordered in a husky, thick voice as he pulled his fingers out of Draco, making him cry out in arousal. "Ah!" He turned and got up onto his hands and knees, thighs shaking as Blaise steadied him, by putting a large hand on his lower back. Draco could have sworn that in that very moment, he heard someone moan.

************

Barely 3 metres away, Harry was in his bed, listening to the couple. He couldn't help himself - the sounds and hushed, but husky, aroused whispers and dirty, wet sounds was too much for him. 'Curiosity killed the cat' he reminded himself, in Hermione's voice and everything - but that didn't do the trick either. He knew he'd ought to turn around and go to sleep - ignore the lads, and yet the grip on his wand relaxed as he concentrated on listening in. 

Harry was very sure of the fact that he was blushing, from the top of his bloody ears and down his chest. He wasn't sure if it was possible to blush in more places than that, but if it was, surely he was blushing there. All he could think about was Mal-Draco, who seemed to be protesting halfheartedly at first - and then he moaned. He bloody moaned and if it wasn't one of the most arousing sound Harry had ever heard, he didn't know what it was. He almost groaned at the very sound and quickly smacked a hand over his own mouth - now he certainly didn't want to get caught. The sound was thankfully drowned out by more wet sounds and insults. 

Harry looked over at Ron to see if he, by any chance, was listening in too. Of course he wasn't, he was still snoring away and Harry had just momentarily blocked out all sounds but the light gasps coming from Draco and Zabini. Merlin those sounds... "Ugh.." He groaned quietly as Draco uttered the most fantastic words, he'd ever heard. 'Shut up and fuck me' - never had he thought such words could make shivers go up his spine. To be fully honest, if Ginny had said them, he might have been aroused too, hell, he had time after time imagined someone saying just those words to him when he wanked. What he hadn't expected was those words coming out of the mouth of Draco Malfoy - he hadn't expected to.. grow hard, with Draco's words. 

He suddenly realized that his hands was halfway down his stomach, he was bloody thumbing the elastic of his pyjama trousers! He moved his hands away faster than had there been a blast-ended skrewt in his bed. He was about to have a wank - to the sounds of Draco Malfoy being fucked by another man. He squeezed his eyes shut, rubbing the bridge of his nose. What was wrong with him? 

Suddenly, the air was filled with dirty, wet sounds that Harry recognized all too well and suddenly, that was the only word that went through his mind. Lube. Bloody hell. "...Shit..." He moaned into the back of his hand. He wanted to sit up, he wanted to see what Zabini was doing to Draco - because if it was as brilliant as it sounded, Harry wanted to see. He didn't know why, neither did he really care, but he wanted to watch Draco as he writhed in utter pleasure. He didn't even notice his other hand slipping down his stomach over his tightening abdominal muscles, and through the dark trail of hair under his navel. "Oh gods!" He heard Draco whimper from the other side of the room, and he reached for his glasses, nearly poking out an eye in his hurry to put them on as he craned his neck to get a proper look. But he couldn't see the couple the way he wanted. He could only see their weak silhouettes. Merlin he wished he could see them. 

He could just imagine the way Draco was squirming against the red sheets of the soft bed, spreading his long, pale legs to reveal a lovely nest of white-blonde curls and a cock as pink as his lips. He imagined the way Draco arched upwards and held onto the pillow beneath him tightly as he pushed himself down onto lubed up fingers. He groaned into his hand as he let his other hand curl around his heavy cock giving it a good squeeze before rubbing his thumb over the head, spreading the drops of precum that collected there. "Turn around - now." He heard Zabini say, and then his voice was drowned out by Draco's eager moan and the sound of said man moving. Harry moaned as he imagined Draco doing just that. He couldn't help but wonder just how Draco looked, bent over, hard and wanting, looking at up at him with cloudy, wet eyes and pink, wet lips parted just a bit as he panted hotly and his white night-shirt gliding off his arse and up his pale back. His moan was too loud to cover up.

************

Odd. Draco could have sworn he heard something - but, then again, what did it matter if he did? "Uhn.." Draco moaned softly, shivering with arousal. He could imagine Blaise, smirking in an aroused manner behind him. He whimpered at the image and let out a loud, long moan as he felt the heat of Blaise's cock radiating off of it as it was lined up behind him. He new Blaise was teasing him - sometimes it felt like he enjoyed the teasing more than the act itself. Blaise had made remarks about how much he enjoyed Draco's change of attitude when he was teased - it was one of the only ways to make him say 'please'. "Ohh... yes!" He groaned, eyes rolling to the back of his head as Blaise finally pushed into him. Finally he was done teasing him - and nothing, absolutely nothing could compare to the feel of it. "Oh fuck Blaise.." He moaned shakily, clenching around Blaise's cock, pushing back against the panting man. It had been so long and he was bloody aching for it. 

He heard Blaise chuckling behind him, and was both aroused and annoyed by this - and then Blaise leaned down over him and nibbled on his ear, making him forget about the latter as he moaned softly. "You're so fucking tight..." Blaise purred at him, before pulling out of Draco slowly, hissing as he did so. The air was cold and almost cruel in comparison to Draco's warm depths. "Stop talking.. You're ruining it." Draco groaned and shuddered as Blaise let out a shaky breath on his neck as he pushed into him once more. "Merlin you smell so good..." Blaise groaned against him, and Draco swore the prick was smirking, before thrusting into him slowly, teasingly. Draco moaned, and closed his eyes, clenching around Blaise's cock. 

"Hah... Faster." Draco moaned as his grip on the pillow beneath him tightened. Sex, no matter with whom, always seemed so hot and almost unbearable to Draco. "Oh..!" He groaned as Blaise complied and started thrusting faster, harder at his bidding, angling his thrusts to hit his prostate every time. It made Draco jerk with pleasure. It seemed that Blaise wasn't in the mood for being a teasing pillock for once. "Ah.. Hah.. Ugh.." He moaned as quietly as he could. Sex like this never lasted too long - but that didn't matter much. The only thing that really matted was the way he could close his eyes and forget about the rest. "Oh fuck right there!" He groaned, pushing his arse back against Blaise. 

He heard Blaise groan behind him, and felt the hand on his lower back move down to join the other one on his hips. "Ah-!" He moaned, and quickly covered his mouth with one hand, grabbing the headboard for support with the other as Blaise started dragging him back onto his cock. "Shit Draco.." Blaise groaned behind him, grinding into him. Draco whimpered, and pushed himself up onto his knees and wrapped both arms around Blaise's neck for support. Blaise immediately started devouring his neck, probably to keep himself quiet - Draco had a theory that Blaise didn't want him to hear him moan. He could still hear his irregular intakes of breath.  
He suddenly wished that Blaise had hair, well more hair than that buzz-cut left him with - maybe like.. Potter. He wanted to bury his fingers in it and tug his mouth down to his an- and he shouldn't think about Potter when Blaise was fucking him. "Ah.." He moaned, turning his head to mouth Blaise's jaw, running his soft lips over Blaise's 5'o'clock shadow, eyes still closed... Potter was unshaven when he'd run into him earlier that day. "Fuck me Blaise." He demanded in a breathy moan, "Turn me around - bend me over..." He panted harshly, wanting to distract himself from the fantasies that slowly was building up scenarios of Potter, pushing him up against the wall in the train, breathing heavily into his ear, saying 'I'm going to fuck you Malfoy', inside his head. 

Blaise chuckled against his neck again and pulled away, tightening his grip on Draco's hips momentarily as he forced him back onto his cock harshly a few times. "It's easier to fuck you like that too... Ugh.." Blaise grunted, nipping on Draco's shoulder, before turning them both around as quickly as he could. "Bend over Dray." He groaned, never stilling the movements of his hips. For a mere second, Draco wished Blaise would have said 'Malfoy'.  
"I hate that fucking nickname- Oh fuck!" He moaned, as Blaise pushed him, forcing him to bend over. He was once again on his hands and knees, but instead of facing the headboard of his bed, he was now looking through the ridiculously thin curtains that he'd closed around his bed. He looked down, shutting his eyes tight. He could see the outline of Potter's bed - he shouldn't be looking at it. "Ugh... Oh gods Po-Uhnnn.." He whimpered as Blaise took a hold of his hair and forced his head up once more. "Yes..! Ah-ahh!" He moaned, shivering from pleasure - it felt as if icy-hot water was running through his veins, momentarily washing dream-Potter away. 

"Oh!" He cried as Blaise's thrusts grew harder. He found himself looking at Potter's bed again - just because that moan had been a little loud and he wanted to check if Potter was sleeping. Draco couldn't see Potter, he couldn't hear if he was snoring from the dirty sounds of flesh slapping against flesh and the wet sounds of Blaise fucking him. He clenched around said man's cock, making him groan loudly. "Fuck yes..!" He heard Blaise utter. It didn't sound like Blaise - it sounded like Potter. "Oh..." He moaned at that very thought of it and looked over at Potter's bed with cloudy eyes. 'Maybe he's listening' He thought, 'Maybe he's wanking.' "Yes.. Ah Fuck..." He moaned, imagining Potter, cock in hand. And from what he'd heard of locker-room talk, it was some cock.  
"Mhm.." He moaned, swallowing thickly and biting his lip at the thought. According to most, Potter was pretty hung - Draco had always imagined that Potter would be as hung as a hippogriff with that stupid Gryffindor luck of his. But later in life, he'd come to fantasize about it, standing proud from a nest of black hair. He knew it was large and thick, heavy seemed to be a better word for it. He imagined that the head would be plumb and angry pink like Potter's tongue whilst the rest would be a bit lighter, like his lips, with a lightly visible net of veins bulging out. It would curve upwards just a bit, and his bollocks would be heavy between his legs. 

Draco could imagine it throb - and with that, his own cock throbbed. "Ahh.." He moaned, supporting himself on the edge of the bed as he reached in between his legs and grabbed his cock, tickling the head with the tip of his fingers like he always did. "Ugh..! Harder." He moaned as he felt Pot-Blaise's bollocks hit his own. Blaise grunted and sped up and once more, Harry Potter, Blaise - everything disappeared from his mind as that icy-hot feeling streamed through him once more. He shuddered as he felt it, the heat in the very pit of his stomach spreading, growing hotter and more unbearable by the second. His bollocks were tightening, and his prostate throbbing. "Ohh fuck - I'm going to cum..!" He groaned, closing his hand around his own erection, giving the base a good squeeze before letting his hand move with Blaise's hard, violent thrusts.  
He felt Blaise pant against the skin on his shoulder, grunting and groaning with each thrust. Blaise was as close as he was. "Yes.. Oh... Ohhh..." He moaned, softly but still long and loudly, as his body jerked forward with the force of his orgasm. His cock throbbed, his prostate throbbed, as ribbons of milky white cum hit the dark striped blanket beneath him. He shuddered and moaned softly again, as he felt the delicious heat of Blaise cumming inside of him. He fell to the bed, panting with Blaise resting atop of him. 

************

Harry's hands stilled for a while as he listened - had the couple heard him? Had Draco heard him moan? Despite trying to keep his hand still, he kept giving the head a few rubs and squeezes, as if to keep interest whilst he made sure that the act continued. Truth was that he couldn't help it - he was throbbing with excitement, the same way as when he was reading a jazz mag. When he finally heard Draco moan softly again, he let out a breath he wasn't aware he'd been holding and let his hand move down to the base of his cock, closing his hand firmly around it.  
The sound of slick, lubed up fingers moving had disappeared and Harry sat up a little, just a little bit to get a better look. Had they stopped? "Ohh... yes!" Harry shuddered with those lusty sounds coming from Draco and the slick sound of something moving once again. His hand started moving before he even noticed it himself, it felt like his cock grew in his hand. He sat up, just a bit more, if he was lucky, he would be able to see through those ridiculously thin curtains. He had noticed Draco looking at them with disdain before going to sleep - Harry now really understood Draco's want for privacy and thanked Merlin and possibly McGonagall in the back of his mind for choosing such flimsy curtains. 

He took a sharp intake of breath - he could only just see Blaise's silhouette from where he was, and cursed under his breath - he wanted to see Draco. Draco and his long, pale legs and his small, but still deliciously round and full arse in the air, and him moaning wantonly at every thrust. He hissed in pleasure as he squeezed himself a bit harder, moving the hand he'd been using to hold himself up with, down to cup his bollocks. He leaned against the headboard, the sound of his head hitting the wood being swallowed by Blaise's husky compliments and Draco's dirty moans and protests and commands of 'faster' and 'Oh fuck right there'.  
Harry closed his eyes, extremely angry about not being able to see as his hand moved faster, his hips thrusting eagerly. Draco appeared in his mind once more, that way he'd looked when Harry had gone into the room; long, pale legs, crossed elegantly, a hand running through his hair and a cigarette in between his pale lips, and the way blue smoke spilled from them, curling in the air. He swallowed thickly as dream-Draco, put down the cigarette and with that smirk Harry knew all too well, started lifting his nightshirt, revealing more of those long legs, that soon turned into lean thighs and stopped, just before revealing the part that Harry wanted to see, but that his imagination seemed unable to picture again. 

In that very moment, he wished that the drawer in his nightstand didn't creak - Merlin how he wished he had charmed it to be silent, or that he'd left his tube of lube out for him to use - but he hadn't thought he'd need it on the first night. His first thought fell on that ridiculous, fragrant oil Draco had in the bathroom - but the door was closed, and he would certainly get caught going to get it - if he could walk at all.  
He bit down on his lower lip and held back a groan as the slick sounds of flesh slapping against flesh grew louder and the bed across from his started creaking. "Ugh.." He couldn't help but moan as he sped up his own hand, his cock throbbing with each of Draco's moans and slick with precum. "Oh.. Oh... Ugh!.. Ah! Fuck me -" Harry chose to ignore the 'Blaise' that followed - his mind supplied him with Draco, longingly moaning 'Potter' instead. He swallowed thickly at the thought, moving his hips eagerly at the thought of actually seeing his cock disappear into the blond's arse.

"Fuck.." He groaned quietly, trying to imagine what it felt like. Would Draco be soft inside like a woman? Would it be warmer than being in a woman? Wetter? Tighter? What would it feel like to cum with him? Harry licked his suddenly dry lips as he imagined the way Draco would look like when he came. He would probably moan loudly, but not cry out loudly like Ginny did, he would probably clench his hands or embrace his lover, probably even kiss him hungrily throughout his orgasm as he moved with him, close his eyes but still share the experience of pleasure with him instead of closing off and drawing into himself like Ginny did. He couldn't even picture her in his head in that very moment - he tried, tried to remind himself how she looked, long red hair and kind brown eyes, freckles all over and her big smile and reddish eyelashes - but all he could see was blond, soft, short hair, smug grey eyes that he wished he could see soften to something else but fearful, pale unblemished skin and long pale eyelashes. He tried imagining the part of Ginny that he'd seen on only her, the pink large nipples, the red curls and her pink sex, shining with wetness - but even that disappeared and the picture of the naked bloke in the bed across from his replaced her once more. And in that moment he couldn't feel guilty. Because he didn't love Draco like he loved her - he was merely curious.

"Ugh... Oh gods Po-Uhnnn.." Harry was ripped out of his head as he heard Draco moaned and opened his eyes in shock, removing his hand from his cock faster than he'd ever drawn his wand - had Draco seen him? What was going to happen next? Harry had definitely heard the start of his name - and he could see Draco's silhouette, and his long pale fingers clenching on the foot-board. But nothing happened - he could hear Blaise and Draco moving eagerly, and Draco moaning with clear arousal. Harry's hand made it's way to his cock before he noticed again, stroking himself eagerly once more. Could Draco see him? Was he looking at him as he wanked, whilst Blaise fucked him?

Both Blaise and Draco had gotten a bit louder, their thrusts more eager, faster as if aching for release. Harry's hand and hips sped up as well, and suddenly he was aware of how his bollocks had tightened, how his stomach was growing warm - how much he was aching for release himself. He tightened his grip on his prick, moving the hand that earlier had cupped his bollocks up to close over the head of his cock, pulling the foreskin up over it a few times. "Fuck yes.." He groaned, giving the base of his cock a squeeze as he sat up a bit, supporting himself against the bed with his back, to make the stroking easier - and to see, just in case, if he could see Draco.  
He couldn't, but Merlin Draco had removed a hand from the foot-board and Harry's mind eagerly pictured Draco being shagged from behind whilst eagerly tugging on his own prick, cheeks flushed and hair matted with dampness. "Shit.. Come on Draco.." He hissed under his breath as he heard Draco's warning, his cock throbbing at the hoarse, aroused whisper that left Draco's mouth and let his slick right hand take over, stroking himself hard, fast, never closing his eyes as he looked over at Draco - and when said man came, it was everything Harry had imagined it would sound like. "Yes.. Oh... Ohhh..." He could see how the bed moved with the man as his body jerked forward and still, hand clenching the board in a cramp-like grip. His own mouth watered, as he heard Draco moan again, and let his body take over, closing his eyes, panting and groaning quietly, thrusting into his own hand as he came, coating it in his clear release. 

His heart was beating unbearably fast in his chest as he thrust up into his hand a few more times before relaxing, sinking down onto the mattress once more, trying to calm his loud breathing. Draco and Blaise, had as little luck succeeding with that as he did. But soon the room grew quiet and Harry could only hear himself panting, besides Ron's snoring and mumbling. He chuckled under his breath - Ron really could sleep through anything, even his best mate wanking to their childhood bully being done by another man. 

He wiped his dirty hand as he thought about that, happy that he was unable to see the wet spots on his red sheets - and then it dawned on him, his stomach pulling unpleasantly. He had just wanked to Draco Malfoy taking it up the arse - what was worse was that he had wanted to see, bloody hell, he had wanted and imagined that he was the one shagging the man! "Bloody hell... shit.." He cursed under his breath, hurriedly taking off his glasses and putting them away. He hadn't seen anything really - it didn't count. It couldn't - it was like a jazz-mag, and he had just been.. curious, that was all. Curious - even Seamus had been curious about lads - Harry had seen him look at Dean like that a few times. It was like Blaise had said earlier - there was nothing wrong with being curious. 

Harry rolled onto his side, placing his slightly sticky hand under his pillow, his face red as he finally heard the couple move on the other side, a small set of personal as well as regular cleaning charms being mumbled and the rustling of a duvet being moved about until they settled down. ".. Go sleep in your own bed.." He heard Draco mumble to Blaise in the same tone as that first half-arsed protest from earlier. He heard Blaise chuckle at that. "Don't want to." He teased, moving closer to Draco by the sound of it. "It's the first night - let me sleep here, I'll wake up before Potter and Weasley and move to my own bed. They'll never know." He mumbled, and Harry heard Draco hum in response. "Alright - don't wake me up when you do." He yawned, and Harry yawned with him, suddenly more tired than he'd been in days.  
"So, no good morning quickie?" Blaise asked teasingly, he sounded tired too. "With Potter and Weasley here? I'm sure they are as daft as Goyle and Crabbe were but they are more alert." He chuckled softly, and Blaise joined him in his soft laugh, but soon they both quieted down. "Sorry." Draco said suddenly. "I forgot myself for a moment." Harry remembered Crabbe well - he had never liked him, and even if he had attacked them, no one deserved to die in that way. "It's alright." Blaise answered after a few seconds, before the room grew quiet again.

***********  
   
"Don't you ever get tired of it all?" Draco whispered softly, as he was embraced warmly by Blaise's strong arms, from behind. Usually he would have pushed him away, but tonight he let him. "Of you, you mean?" Blaise asked in a tired chuckle.  
Draco shook his head, unseen because of darkness. But Harry heard it - he could hear his head moving in the sheets. "Of… being." Draco then said softly. Harry noted, that Draco sounded tired.  
"Being what?" Blaise asked, sounding awfully indifferent, as wet kisses was placed on Draco's pale shoulder. "Just of being." Draco whispered. Blaise pulled away and shrugged. "I don't know Dray.. Just, go to sleep alright?"  
Draco didn't say another word after that. But Harry could hear that he wasn't asleep like Blaise was by now - his breathing hadn't changed. Harry wondered what Draco meant, but yet somehow, he understood precisely what he meant.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! 
> 
> Thank you for reading this - and if you liked it; there will be more to come, don't worry!  
> For starters - yes, Fred is alive. I love Fred, and he deserves to be alive - not judging Rowling's decision, she wrote some brilliant books! I just want Fred to stay alive.  
> I will warn you now - updates will come, but not as often as you might hope. I'm studying at a University - this leaves little time to write, but I will try to update as often as I can! Promise!
> 
> Again, thank you for reading!


End file.
